“What I must do is all that concerns me, not what people think.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” – Oscar Wilde

Day 135

I left the Wilbur Clearing Shelter and began my descent toward the Hoosic River. About halfway down the mountain I saw Foxfire talking to two southbound hikers. It turns out they were a Canadian couple from Quebec on a section hike, and were out doing trail magic. After eating some of their raspberries, I thanked them and hiked on.

At MA 2 I headed west 1/2 mile to a grocery store on the outskirts of Williamstown. I did a big food resupply and had a couple of blueberry muffins and chocolate milk for second breakfast. I returned to the trail, crossed the Hoosic River, and began a long gradual climb out of the valley.

At mile 1596.3 I arrived at the Vermont border and celebrated with a Snickers bar and good conversation with several southbounders. This is also the southernmost point of the Long Trail, as it runs concurrent with the AT for the next 105.2 miles before breaking off toward Canada. A mile later, around 3 pm, I crossed paths with Long Strider on another of his southbound slack pack hikes. Little did I know that I would not see another human being for the next 24 hours.

After a 12.9 mile mile day I stealth camped near Roaring Branch Pond. I was glad to be in Vermont and excited to be hiking in its famed Green Mountains. Fun fact: Green Mountains is the literal translation of the French Verts Monts, which is how Vermont was named. The idea was suggested in 1777 by Dr. Thomas Young, an American revolutionary and Boston Tea Party participant. Remember that, as it will be on the final AT exam.

Day 136

During my morning hike I stopped for water near the Congdon Shelter. The water was cold and clear. The shelter was a dump and in need of attention. I learned later that Foxfire tented near the shelter the previous night and battled mice throughout the night. They got into her food bag hanging from a tree branch and were crawling on her tent. Bummer.

By mid-afternoon I reached Harmon Hill and saw a group of girls in their early teens from a day camp taking in the view. Although they were the first humans I’d seen in 24 hours, I didn’t stay long because all twenty of them were talking at the same time and no one was listening. Too much humanity in one spot. It made me dizzy. I may have become an INTJ. Later, at the footbridge at Hell Hollow Brook, I caught up with Foxfire and Pigeon Toe, a retired coal miner from Kentucky.

I ended my 18.6 mile day near the crowded Goddard Shelter, just as a light rain began to fall. There was an interesting combination of hikers there, including northbound and southbound AT hikers, Long Trail hikers, and day hikers. I enjoy the friendly rivalry between AT NOBOs and SOBOs. SOBOs trash talk us for not yet having done the most difficult sections of the AT, the Whites and southern Maine. We trash talk them because we have hiked a thousand more miles than they have and are smarter and better looking.

Day 137

I looked forward to today’s hike because I would be climbing the 3936-foot Stratton Mountain. The mountain holds a special place in hiking history. While on the mountain in 1909, James P. Taylor came up with the idea of a trail from Massachusetts to Canada which would become Vermont’s Long Trail. While on Stratton’s summit during construction of the Long Trail, Benton MacKaye, a forester, planner, and conservationist, conceived the idea of a trail spanning the entire Appalachian range. His grand vision would eventually culminate in the completion of the Appalachian Trail.

I have always admired visionary leaders and I have worked with and for some great ones. Jonathan Swift, an 18th century Irish writer, said that “Vision is the art of seeing things invisible.” I love that. I think it starts with talking to people (customers, family members, etc.) about their challenges and problems. What’s not working in our family, company, church, or even society? And then you start using your imagination and brainstorming about what could possibly be done to address that problem, even if it would require considerable resources, has never been done before, or initially sounds absurd. You then have to sell your vision, acquire the resources, and champion the cause until it comes to fruition.

Benton MacKaye, like Thomas Jefferson, Albert Einstein, Steven Jobs, and others, was a visionary. He had a big idea and saw a really long Appalachian Trail in his head. I’m sure there were cynics coming up with all sorts of reasons why his idea wasn’t realistic or plausible. There will always be cynics. Sometimes the cynics are right, because not all grand visions succeed. And yet, some grand visions do succeed. Some big dreams become a reality.

So what’s your vision? What do you want your family, business, church, or community to look like in 5, 10, and 20 years? What’s the biggest challenge each of them faces? Have you ever really thought about it? Have you sat down with a pencil and paper and brainstormed solutions? Better yet, have you gone on a long walk in nature to think deeply about the challenges and possible solutions? You may not be the next Steven Jobs who revolutionizes an entire industry. But not all visions have to be grand. Maybe you start by just solving a persistent problem facing your family.

I grew up in a family that had problems like any other family. But I always knew that my dad was somehow working on them. He was the family visionary and big problem solver, whereas mom ran the daily operations of managing the household and keeping everyone clothed, fed, and alive. As a youngster, knowing that gave me a lot of comfort. Is your vision and your approach to solving problems bringing comfort to your family, business, church, classroom or others that you may be called to lead? Or are you satisfied with the status quo, thinking the problems are too big to solve? Something to think about.

So as I climbed beautiful Stratton mountain, I thought about Benton MacKaye up there dreaming big dreams of an Appalachian Trail. I also spent some time thinking about my future after the trail. I prayed about it. I thought about some things, big and small, that I’d like for Janet and me to do. I thought about some problems that need tackling and brainstormed solutions. It was a fun exercise that took my mind off the grueling climb.

At the Stratton summit I walked by the tiny caretaker cabin and met the sweet couple who live there and keep an eye on things during hiking season. They grow their own food, get water from a spring, and offer helpful advice to hikers. I walked by the fire tower but decided not to climb it because I was tired and needed all my energy to get down the mountain before it got dark.

At the base of the mountain I took a .5 mile side trail clockwise around Stratton Pond to the campsite on the north shore. I tented there along with Foxfire, Other Brother (an Air Force veteran and former C-130 crew chief) and a few other hikers. I built a big campfire and sat there with Foxfire discussing today’s hike. It had been a good 19.5 mile day of hiking and thinking and dreaming big dreams.

Fob

“Every human mind is a great slumbering power until awakened by a keen desire and by definite resolution to do.” – Edgar F. Roberts

“Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought.” – Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

Day 133

Foxfire offered me her three leftover hard-boiled eggs for breakfast and I accepted. That brought my total to nine hard-boiled eggs eaten in twelve hours…tripling my previous personal record. I broke camp and headed north 9.5 miles to Dalton, Massachusetts. The highlight of my morning hike was spotting my first wild weasel climbing up a tree. As I approached the tree he was in, I started humming the first song I ever learned.  I hoped he would slip and fall off a branch just as I went by so I could look at him and say “plop goes the weasel.”

In Dalton I checked in to the Shamrock Inn and showered and did laundry. Fun fact: Dalton’s largest employer, Crane and Company, is the only supplier of paper for the Federal Reserve Note, the United States’ paper money. Okay, so that fact isn’t very fun…I’ll try again later. I had a steak sandwich and salad at Angelina’s and then re-supplied across the street at Sav More. I spent the rest of the evening resting and catching up on news. A side benefit of being on the trail is not having to listen to the endless political banter of this election season and other bad news. After the trail, I hope to enjoy more sunrises, sunsets, and walks and take in less news and political rants. Before bashing either unpopular presidential candidate, maybe we need to drop to a knee and pray for the eventual winner. He or she is going to need it. Just a thought. Later I ordered some House Special fried rice and spring rolls and ate dinner in bed while leaning against a soft, fluffy pillow.

Day 134

Today was a fairly easy day of hiking with gradual climbs and descents. Near The Cobbles, a marble outcropping with views of the Hoosic River Valley, I crossed paths with Hammer and another hiker. They were doing a southbound slack pack and we shared notes on our respective upcoming terrain.

At mile 1577.5 I arrived at Chesire, Massachusetts. Fun fact: in 1800 the town, known for its dairying and cheese, sent a 1,235-pound chunk of cheese, made of curds from every farmer in town, to President Jefferson. The big chunk of cheese, moved on a sled drawn by six horses and then on water, resulted in a thank you letter from President Jefferson to the Chesire farmers. Historians disagree on whether the President cut the cheese himself, or delegated the responsibility to the White House chef, Myron Toots.

My only stop in Chesire was a terrific ice cream place called Diane’s Twists. Upon arrival I noticed several hikers sitting at the picnic tables outside. Long Strider was finishing off a banana split. Gusteau (an LSU grad and science whiz) was sitting under a shade tree licking his ice cream cone. Other hikers had little globs of ice cream in their scraggly beards that didn’t bother them a bit. Suddenly a familiar looking hiker with a thick, German, Hans Gruber from Die Hard accent approached me and said, “Your son poop on trail.” While it’s common for parents to live vicariously through their children or to be known for their children’s accomplishments, it’s less common to be known by the inappropriate placement of a child’s bowel movement. Such is the trail life of a Fob W. Pot. I met and talked to the German hiker, Dream Catcher, at the Low Gap shelter a few months ago, and it was good to see him doing well and enjoying his great American hike. It was also good to eat a large Cookie Dough ice cream and wash it down with a cold Mountain Dew.

I spent the afternoon making the 2500-foot ascent of Mount Greylock, the highest peak in Massachusetts, coming in at 3489 feet. The summit features a 93-foot-high Massachusetts Veterans War Memorial Tower, Bascom Lodge, Thunderbolt Ski Shelter, and a television and radio tower. In addition to being on the National Register of Historic Places, Mount Greylock is the location of Ilvermorny, the North American School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the fictional world of Harry Potter. Now that is a fun fact!

After consuming a Coke and chips from the Bascom Lodge snack bar, I descended the mountain and ended my 20.5-mile day sleeping in the Wilbur Clearing Shelter. I met several section hikers and southbounders, including Mission, Raven, and Angel. My friend Foxfire was also there, and together we sat around a campfire sharing stories of life on the AT. Someone in the group reeked of hard boiled eggs and I couldn’t get away from them, regardless of where I sat.

Fob

“Every new day begins with possibilities. It’s up to us to fill it with the things that move us toward progress and peace.” – Ronald Reagan

“It is wonderful how much may be done if we are always doing.” – Thomas Jefferson

Day 131

The highlight of my morning was a fascinating hike along Ice Gulch, a ravine so deep that it will often have ice or snow in it in the middle of summer. Although it was a warm and humid day, I at least crossed several streams and ponds. I played leapfrog with Sunshine and Moxie throughout the day, and enjoyed talking to them on a couple of breaks.

At mile 1531.1 I went by Benedict Pond.  A local section hiker told me they stock the pond with trout via helicopter.  I would love to have seen a helicopter trout dump while I was there but that was not to be.

My goal today was to reach and camp at the Shaker Campsite, mile 1538.2. Ann Lee, a charismatic young woman, founded the Shaker religion in Manchester, England in 1747. She claims to have had a vision that taught her that humans must renounce carnal knowledge in order to gain entrance to heaven. Thus, the Shakers practiced pacifism, celibacy, communal living, and gender equality. As someone who has practiced all four of those things on the AT, I consider myself somewhat of a Shaker and a mover. After facing persecution in England, Lee and her followers fled to America in 1774 and settled in Albany, New York. The utopian group claimed 5000 believers by the mid-19th century and spread around the northeast, to include a small settlement in a wooded valley near modern day Tyringham, Massachusetts.

After 14.1 miles, I called it a day at the Shaker campsite, with a couple of remnants of their stone structures still visible. A section hiker’s clothes line full of undergarments and a stuffed animal only slightly detracted from the historic feel of the area. I talked with fellow hikers ETA, Foxfire, and Apple Jack for awhile, and then gave myself a mini sponge bath at the nearby creek. I wasn’t sure if standing in my underwear sponging myself by the creek was consistent with renouncing carnal knowledge, and feared my doing so might get me expelled from the Shaker Campsite. On the other hand, the sight of an emaciated Fob dripping wet in his underwear all but assured my celibacy for the foreseeable future, consistent with Shaker doctrine.

Day 132

Less than two miles into my morning hike, I crossed Jerusalem Road and saw a young boy standing next to a wooden hut in front of his home. I walked over and discovered that the enterprising young man had established a little business selling drinks, snacks, eggs and other products to hikers. The little hut, a self-service, pay as you go store, was even wired to power a refrigerator. I purchased and consumed a couple of drinks and snacks, and bought a couple more for later. It occurred to me that this young fellow, maybe around 12 years old, works harder to stock his store and earn a living than some in our country who do very little and live off welfare. A mile later I reached Main Road and discovered a cooler full of ice-cold watermelon slices. It had been a good morning.

Shortly after seeing a snake at Baldy Mountain, I crossed paths with a southbound group of hikers known as the Silver Scramblers. They were a fun, motivated group of somewhat older hikers, and I enjoyed stopping and talking to them for a few minutes.

At mile 1548.1 I faced a decision. Option 1 was to take a .5 mile side trail to popular Upper Goose Pond Cabin. This would give me an easy 10-mile day and an opportunity to swim in a beautiful pond and have blueberry pancakes in the morning. Option 2 was to take advantage of the relatively flat terrain and decent weather and hike eleven more miles to Washington Mountain Road. This would allow me to camp in the popular Cookie Lady’s yard and enjoy her cookies (complimentary) and option to purchase hard-boiled eggs, sodas, blueberries, raspberries, and Klondike bars. Tough win-win choice, but I went with Option 2.

I reached US 20 by early afternoon and went .1 mile east to a hotel to get a soda and re-charge my phone. I then pounded out ten more buggy, muddy miles and finally reached the Cookie Lady’s house! Foxfire, ETA, and a couple other hikers were already there. ETA had just finished mowing some grass, something I would also have been willing to do to help the family out had the sun not been setting. For supper, I purchased two cokes, a Klondike bar, a pint of raspberries, and six hard-boiled eggs. Don’t judge me…I’m a long distance hiker. The couple is in their 80s and he is in poor health and in the hospital. They have been serving cookies to hikers for decades and also offer their soft lawn for tenting. Their property is gorgeous, featuring a blueberry patch, shade trees, and a picnic table and chairs for hikers to use. Although the patriarch is ill, they had at least one child and a couple of teenage grandchildren there serving cookies, selling the other products, and keeping the tradition alive. Good on them.

It had been a great 21 mile day, my tenth 20+ mile day on the AT. I like to stay under 17-18 miles per day as much as possible as that is easier on my body, more sustainable, and more enjoyable. However, I can and will go longer occasionally to reach a trail town or other special destination, and the Cookie Lady’s property definitely qualifies. My only regret on the day was consuming six hard-boiled eggs before and after drinking a Coke. There are consequences to such choices, and for me, the consequences could be heard throughout the night and across the sprawling property.

Fob

“Reach high, for stars lie hidden in your soul. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.” – Pamela Vaull Starr

“My message to the world is ‘Let’s swing, sing, shout, make noise! Let’s not mimic death before our time comes!” – Mel Brooks

Day 125

Thankfully, Rasputin and I slept well last night in the side yard of the vacant purple house, avoiding arrest. As I crossed the street to get back on the trail, I walked by Dover Oak, the largest oak tree on the entire AT. I believe I am the largest Fob.

A short time later, I crossed a series of footbridges and boardwalks over creeks and swamps. I decided to listen to some tunes on my phone, and the first song that came on was Imagine by John Lennon. It’s a classic song about mankind living in peace and harmony, but Mr. Lennon takes us to such an idyllic place by removing heaven and religion from the equation. As I hiked, I thought about how the lyrics might have been different had Lennon been a Christian and held a Christian worldview. We’ll never know as he was against religious teaching and organized religion, and according to his song God, didn’t believe in Jesus or the Bible. Well, I happen to believe in God, Jesus, and the Bible, so I thought I would rewrite the song from a Christian perspective…

Re-Imagine
By Sir Fob W. Pot

Imagine there’s a heaven
It’s easy if you try
A hell down below us
It’s one or the other, when we die
Imagine all the people
Trying to obey, aha-ha

Imagine all the countries
It isn’t hard to do
Jesus was willing to live and die for
To save our souls, yes it’s true
Imagine all the people
Living life God’s way…You…

You may say I’m a Christian
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
Believing Jesus is God’s Son

Imagine our possessions
Shared at home and across the seas
Taking food to the hungry
Helping out the least of these
Imagine all God’s people
Lifting up the world…You…

You may say I’m a Christian
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
Assured of victory, through God’s Son!

At mile 1448.3 I passed the Appalachian Trail Railroad Station. I briefly considered a day trip into New York City, but decided I’d rather wait and do that in clean clothes with my wife. I did stop at the hiker-friendly Native Landscapes and Garden Center for an apple, two sodas, and two Klondike bars. The lady at the cash register was very friendly and interested in my hike. She probably sees ten to twenty hikers each day and yet made me feel like I was the only hiker on the trail. That’s a gift.

Around lunchtime I stopped at Wiley Shelter and visited with Loligag and Little Rhino, the pride of Little Rock, Arkansas. They offered me a cookie and I accepted, because one must accept all food offers while hiking the trail. About a mile later, I crossed the border into Connecticut!

At 4:00 p.m. I arrived at a beautiful campsite on Ten Mile River. After 12.2 miles, I decided to call it a day so I could swim, rest my feet, and enjoy the surroundings.

Day 126

This morning I crossed historic Bulls Bridge and stopped at the Country Store for second breakfast and some re-supply. The original Bulls Bridge was built across the Housatonic River by Jacob and Isaac Bull in 1760. Legend has it that George Washington crossed the bridge while it was under construction. The current bridge, one of three surviving covered bridges in Connecticut, was built in 1842 and is on the National Register of Historic Places. Legend has it that in 2016 Sir Fob W. Pot crossed the bridge before and after consuming a muffin, banana, Gatorade, and cup of coffee.

At mile 1466.7 I considered going into Kent but decided not to. Two different hikers told me it’s not a hiker friendly town. One hiker said the laundromat isn’t hiker friendly. I can’t imagine what they would have against hiker laundry. Another hiker said hello to some people downtown and they replied, “just keep on hiking.” While it’s not fair to write-off a town on the basis of two reports, it was enough for me to push on to the next town.

Late in the day I descended the St. John Ledges, steep stone steps leading down to the Housatonic River. I then began a long, flat walk along the river. It was pretty but I had dozens of gnats swarming my head and sweaty body, by far the worst attack of my journey. I declared war on them. I put my trekking poles up and pulled out my DEET. I sprayed them with my left hand while hitting myself in the face and side of the head with my right hand. As I flailed around swinging wildly, I suspect I looked like the Gerasene demoniac Jesus encountered in Luke 8. The gnats and black flies fell from the air in masses, as more smashed casualties piled up on the sides of my face. My right hand was covered in bug splats, even as more gnat reinforcements arrived. It was an epic battle with no clear winner.

After a 15.6 mile day, I tented along the river near Stewart Hollow Brook Shelter. I was joined by Loligag, Little Rhino, and Count, who got that trail name by carrying and reading the large Count of Monte Cristo novel early in his hike. Later, I was happy to see Brits Sam Squanch and Boss come into camp. I asked how their two days in New York City went. Sam Squanch said it was pretty overwhelming and New Yorkers are “not that friendly.” He managed to buy a street performer’s demo CD, on sale for $10, for the price of $20 because the artist couldn’t make change.

Fob

“Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.” – St. Francis of Assisi

“Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” – St. Francis of Assisi

Day 122

As far as I could tell, I was the only person on Bear Mountain last night. They close the road and there didn’t appear to be any other hikers. During my descent, I walked by more litter than I had seen on my entire journey. Apparently the mountain is a popular getaway for people from New York City and elsewhere, and more than a few of them just toss their trash along the trail. At the base of the mountain I walked by an otherwise beautiful park with lots of litter, next to scenic Hessian Lake. There was a tiny little island on the lake just a few yards from the shore and even it had litter on it. Come on, people!

Since the Trailside Museum and Zoo weren’t open yet and I needed to re-supply, I decided to hike over to Fort Montgomery. This is when things started to get interesting. I came to a large, busy traffic circle and walked by an accident scene. The police were there interviewing one driver, while the other driver, an elderly man, leaned against his car in obvious distress. I went over and started talking to him. He said the woman cut into his lane and hit him and he was on his way to a doctor’s appointment. Exasperated and with no phone, he said, “What am I gonna do?” I told him everything would be okay, the police were there, no one was injured, the car could be repaired, and the doctor would reschedule his appointment. He declined my offer to use my phone to call the doctor. We then started talking about my hike and the story behind my trail name. By the time I left, he at least had a smile on his face to go along with his damaged Buick. I guess he figured as bad as his day was going, at least his children don’t poop on the trail.

The normal bridge and passenger walkway to Fort Montgomery were under construction and closed, but I was told there was a footpath through the woods and over a footbridge to the town. I headed down the footpath near the Hudson River and came to a fork in the trail. The main path seemed to break left but the right fork would take me toward the water and what appeared to be a bridge over it. I chose the right path which would turn out to be the wrong one. The path became increasingly rough and rocky, and then I came to a “No Trespassing” sign. There’s your sign, Fob! Undeterred by this warning, and feeling unusually stupid, I kept going, certain there was a footbridge ahead that would take me over the water and into town.

When I finally got to the water, I discovered that what I thought was a footbridge was actually a railroad bridge. I was on private railroad property which explained the No Trespassing sign. Determined to see how many dumb decisions I could make in a row, I decided to cross over the railroad bridge rather than turn around and backtrack. It was just wide enough to fit me and a train, I figured. If not, I could always jump off the bridge into the water, like the scene in the movie Stand By Me. With my ears listening for a train, I kicked it into high gear and sped along for a few hundred yards across the bridge. My next Fobstacle was a railroad tunnel going under the mountain for a couple hundred yards. It was wide enough for me and a train, but was pitch black. I donned my headlamp and headed into the tunnel, knowing Janet would disapprove. It was super creepy in the tunnel, the kind of place where Injun Joe might go to murder Widow Douglas. I didn’t see any rats in the long dark corridor but I’m certain they were there and saw me. I finally cleared the tunnel, breathed a sigh of relief, and then hiked another mile or so uphill into Fort Montgomery.

After resupplying and having a few snacks at a convenience store, I decided to tour historic Fort Montgomery along the banks of the Hudson River. Back during the Revolutionary War, both sides understood the strategic importance of controlling the Hudson River. It was the major means of transporting troops and supplies throughout much of the northeast. The Continental Congress directed that fortifications be built along the Hudson to maintain control of navigation on the river. (Pay attention…this will be on the final.) I walked by the location where the good guys placed a river battery of six 32-pound cannons, pointed toward the Hudson River. Unfortunately, on October 6, 1777, a combined force of about 2,100 British regulars, Loyalists, and Hessians attacked the fort and neighboring Fort Clinton from the land side. By the end of the day the British defeated the grossly outnumbered colonialists, burned the forts, and tore down the stonework buildings. This was a Pyrrhic victory for the British, though, as the campaign delayed their arrival to Saratoga, where the Americans won a big victory. Class dismissed.

I exited the historical park and found the correct path and pedestrian footbridge over the water. Next on the agenda was to visit the Trailside Museum and Zoo. The zoo only houses permanently injured or orphaned animals that would be unable to survive in the wild. They also must be native to New York State. I think this is a good thing, although when I walked by the injured Bald Eagle, I wondered about his quality of life sitting on that perch 24/7/365. I wondered if he had ever known the joy of soaring over a mountain or swooping down and catching a field mouse (and bopping it on its head). Would it be better to have those memories to think back on or to have been injured and rescued early in life so you don’t know what you’re missing? Or do bald eagles even have memories like that? I don’t know.

I made my way over to the bear exhibit which is the lowest point on the entire AT. The bear was laying in a hammock taking a rest, surrounded by fifty or so vultures. It was truly a weird scene, like when you walk in on your parents kissing. He just laid there watching the tourists and we just stood there watching him. The vultures were still and silent, as if posing for an Addams family Christmas card photo. I felt uncomfortable and would have to agree that it was the lowest point on the AT.

With my re-supply, historic tour, and zoo trip complete, I got back on the trail and crossed over the majestic Hudson River. I climbed 700 feet and then descended to the intersection of US 9 and NY 403. I stopped at the Appalachian Market, conveniently located by the AT, and consumed a double cheeseburger, onion rings, slice of pizza, milkshake, Coke, Mountain Dew, and Gatorade.

“For it is in giving that we receive…It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.” – St. Francis of Assisi

Less than a mile later, at mile 1409.6, I arrived at the Graymoor Spiritual Life Center, a monastery that allows hikers to camp at their softball field pavilion. Known formally as the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, they have been called, in the words of Saint Francis of Assisi, “to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way.” In the summer of 1972 the first AT hiker stumbled upon Graymoor and asked to spend the night. Since then the Friars have graciously welcomed hikers to stay on their grounds, seek shelter under the pavilion, access their well water, and use their port-a-pot. Each day a Friar comes by the field to check for sick or injured hikers. I think Saint Francis would be happy about that. It’s a special place with a special vibe, and I can see why people with addictions come here to walk the grounds and find healing and peace. At the top of every hour, the beautiful sound of church bells played over the loud speaker.

Normally at a campground or shelter in early evening, hikers would be sitting around talking and laughing and sharing stories from the day. At Graymoor, the fifteen or so of us hikers were spread out along picnic tables and across the field journaling, thinking, and meditating alone. At least one of them was praying, thanking God for a special campsite on an amazing trail in a wonderful country. It had been an interesting day, featuring an accident scene, the scary crossing of a railroad bridge and tunnel, a historic battlefield, and a bear surrounded by vultures. As I lay in my tent, I thought about the elderly man at the accident scene and hoped that he was safe at home and at peace. I wasn’t at home, but I felt safe at Graymoor and very much at peace.

Fob

“Life is raw material. We are artisans. We can sculpt our existence into something beautiful, or debase it into ugliness. It’s in our hands.” – Cathy Better

“This is the urgency: Live! and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.” – Gwendolyn Brooks

Day 115

After a pancake breakfast at the Water Gap Diner, I said farewell to Delaware Water Gap and crossed a long bridge over the Delaware River as traffic zoomed by. Halfway across the bridge I saw a painted sign on the walkway marking my departure from Pennsylvania and entrance into New Jersey. It felt good to check off another state and be back in the state from which I graduated from high school. I have fond memories from my years at Northern Burlington High School and truly appreciate the high school friends who are following my journey and offering their encouragement.  It was also kind of interesting to be returning to New Jersey at the same weight as when I left.

Just over the bridge I stopped at the Kittatinny Visitor Center to top off my tank from their water fountain and purchase a Gatorade for later. As I walked around looking at their displays and talking to the Park Rangers, I was sort of dreading going back out into the heat and humidity. Just then a wheelchair-bound man came in with a friend to re-charge his wheelchair battery behind a bench. It was a quick and necessary reminder that some folks would give anything to be able to stand and hike even a few feet, so I should appreciate the ability and opportunity I have to hike this magnificent trail.

My first real task of the day was a five mile, 1100 foot climb with a few dozen mostly day hikers up to Sunfish Pond. This section of trail, up to the Kittatinny Mountain summit, will likely find a home in my Top 10 sections of the AT, and the glacial pond was easily the prettiest to date. Sunfish Pond is a 44-acre glacial lake and a U.S. National Natural Landmark. Just standing there on its banks felt very special. The AT in New Jersey was off to an impressive start!

After descending the mountain, I stopped at the Mohican Outdoor Center for a Reuben sandwich, chips, Coke, and rest. I talked to Arrow and Mountain Goat, my piano playing Aussie friend. Mountain Goat was preparing to spend a week in New York City to allow an earlier hiking companion to catch up with her. As I ate my Reuben, she emerged from the restroom and in her adorable Aussie voice said, “Fob, I’m kind of weak and have the worst diarrhea…do you think it’s Giardia?” I had no clue how to respond, but wanted to continue the conversation about her diarrhea because I love her accent. I told her to rest, drink fluids, see an NYC doc if the trots continue, and try not to have an accident in Times Square.

At mile 1305.9 I passed the Catfish Lookout Tower and spoke to a group of teens and Foxfire, who was tenting there for the night. I continued on despite an approaching storm. About out of water, I stopped at a pond which is described in my guidebooks as a “swamp” and beaver pond. The water was unusually warm and I just hoped that my water filter would filter out the bad stuff. After a 14.9 mile day, I stealth camped at mile 1307.9. Thirty minutes after crawling into my tent, the rain started to fall and would continue throughout the night.

Day 116

By morning the rain had stopped but I ended up wet anyway from sweat and brushing up against wet vegetation. It was another hot and humid day. The New Jersey gnats, black flies, horse flies, and sweat bees formed a federation and aggressively swarmed my head. I once again had to don my head net for much of the day, which frustrates them to no end.

At mile 1321.4 I descended into Culvers Gap near Branchfield, NJ. The guidebook map showed three eating establishments just off the trail. The first, Sunrise AT Diner, was closed. The second, Stokes Steakhouse, had gone out of business and is up for sale. Facing my final strike, I nervously approached Gyp’s Tavern and it was open! The first thing I noticed inside was a t-shirt on the wall featuring a deer squatting on a plant and the title…”Hey Vegetarians… My Food Poops on Your Food.” I laughed harder and longer than the joke warranted.  Inspired, I ate a pizza, hot dog, and onion rings while talking to fellow hikers Scott, Jersey, and Boston.

I hiked a few more miles to the Gren Anderson Shelter, and called it a day after 16.5 miles. It was a beautiful night with no rain in the forecast so, for the first time, I tented without a rain fly. It was neat to feel a slight breeze in the tent and be able to look up and see the stars above.

Day 117

In case you’re wondering, the rocks don’t end at the Pennsylvania border. They continue into New Jersey for awhile, and that included my hike on Day 117. The motivational goal today was reaching High Point State Park, the summit of which is the highest point in New Jersey. Even more important to me was the existence of a concession stand at the park’s popular beach and swimming area.

Based on a tip from a southbounder, I visited High Point SP headquarters, where signing their hiker logbook earns you a free Coke. Nice touch, Jersey. I then hiked over to the beach and swimming area and located the concession stand. The prices were high, but I was extremely hungry and in desperate need of calories. Over the next hour, while drying out my clothes and gear, I ate an ice cream appetizer, cheeseburger, hot dog, French fries, two Gatorades, two Cokes, and another ice cream. The total came to $400. I then hopped in the bathroom shower to rinse off the salt formations that had formed on my beard, earlobes, and elsewhere. If I were rich and it were allowed, I would have spent the rest of my summer at this park, eating, swimming, and showering.

After an 18.4 mile day, I reached the Murray property, also known as the Secret Shelter. For the past nearly twenty years, Mr. Murray, an AT thru-hiker, has graciously let hikers camp on his beautiful grassy farm. It’s not an official shelter, but has a cabin, tenting area, privy, outdoor shower, and well water. After setting up my tent in the soft grass and visiting with several other hikers, two donkeys came up. At first I thought I was hallucinating from the heat. My mind was racing with questions. Are there wild donkeys? Does Mr. Murray own these? Can you eat them? If so, how would you go about killing them? Are they friendly? Will they make waffles in the morning? Does Mountain Goat have Giardia?

They turned out to be very friendly. In fact, while I ate dinner on the porch, one came over and put his head on my shoulder and then began scratching his neck against my shoulder. This was the most affection I’d experienced since the bed and breakfast in Pennsylvania. I captured the bizarre moment on video. I also realized that the AT had basically reduced me to nothing more than a fence post.

Fob

“To be elated at success and disappointed at failure is to be the child of circumstances; how can such a one be called master of himself?” – Chinese Proverb

“Nothing gives one person so much advantage over another as to remain always cool and unruffled under all circumstances.” – Thomas Jefferson

Day 112

After our incredible time together, Janet drove me back to the trailhead near Slatington. It was tough and emotional to say goodbye again, but I told her I loved her and would think about her every day until I see her again in Maine. She told me she loved me and would pray for me every day. We then hugged and kissed and I headed out over the bridge.

My sadness transitioned to bewilderment as I stared up at the climb out of Lehigh Gap that was ahead. The task was to climb 1000+ feet up the steep rockslide known as Blue Mountain, often going hand over hand. It was easily the most challenging rock scramble on the AT thus far, but it was also one of the most fun. I was glad the weather was clear, that I had long legs, and that my footing held on each precarious step.

From 1898-1980 the zinc mining industry took a heavy environmental toll on Palmerton, Blue Mountain, and the surrounding area. The New Jersey Zinc Company, our nation’s largest producer of zinc, left 33 million tons of slag (rocky waste) as a byproduct of their mining operations. The smelting operations also released heavy metals into the air and water, killing 2000 acres of vegetation on Blue Mountain and contaminating the Lehigh River and Aquashicola Creek. The Environmental Protection Agency added Palmerton to its National Priorities List in 1983 and since then there has been a concerted effort to grade and revegetate the land and clean the water and residences. As I climbed up and along Blue Mountain, I could tell it had taken a beating, but I was also impressed with the obvious effort underway to bring it back. Just to be on the safe side, I brought an extra bottle of Gatorade to avoid having to filter water from this area.

After summiting Blue Mountain, I continued along its mostly flat ridge for a few miles. At mile 1262.1, Little Gap Road, two former thru-hikers, Flapjack and Tunes, were under a canopy giving out Trail Magic! I was surprised to see a hiker named Black Bear sitting there. I shared a shelter with him a couple of months ago and know that he routinely does 20+ mile days. I’m going at a much more leisurely pace so it made no sense for us both to be in the same location. It turns out he got a severe back infection and had to get off the trail, rest and heal for two weeks and was now back at it. I also met Scarecrow, Hot Toddy, and Terodactyle. After having a cheese sandwich, some fruit and topping off my water from their water jugs, I thanked them and hiked on.

As I climbed out of Little Gap, a light rain began to fall. It made the rocks slippery but felt quite refreshing. I don’t like setting up or breaking down camp in the rain, but don’t mind hiking in it unless there is lightning.

A little later I passed a monument to Monmouth Air Flight 98. On October 24, 1971 a Beechcraft 99 crashed at this location, killing both pilots and two of the six passengers. The accident report concluded the pilot executed a nonprecision instrument approach in instrument flight conditions. The report also stated the pilots’ extensive on-duty time and resulting fatigue likely affected their judgement and decisions during the approach.

Late in the afternoon, the rain stopped but it was still overcast and dark in the woods. I stopped and relieved myself on a tree and then sat down to take a break and drink some water. About 20 minutes after resuming my hike, I saw Black Bear heading towards me. He said, “Fob, what are you doing?” “Hiking to Maine,” I answered. “Not in that direction,” he replied. “You’re going southbound!” I have read of hikers doing this before but never imagined doing it myself. Apparently during my last water break, I wasn’t paying close enough attention and headed out the wrong way. In a dark section of forest that all looks pretty similar, I just never realized my mistake. I thanked him for helping me out and mentally wrote “stupid” on my forehead before turning northbound and continuing my journey.

After this 40 minute mistake and a 10.2 mile day, I stealth camped near the intersection of the AT and the Delps Trail. I had only been away from my wife for six hours and was already missing her. I also thought about fatigue-induced errors and their consequences. My earlier error had cost me 40 minutes of time and unnecessarily hiking an extra 1.5 miles. The Monmouth Flight 98 pilots’ error, near the same spot as mine and for the same basic reason, had cost them their lives.

Day 113

Today was characterized by 16.8 miles of hot weather, endless rocks, two little snakes, and one deer. I felt fatigued throughout the day and saw very few other hikers on the trail in either direction. At various points I felt like a zombie, mentally checked out and just mindlessly churning ahead like a sweaty robot stuck on autopilot. It was that rare day on the AT that was void of fun. Some days on the trail are just like that. A bright spot was some unattended Trail Magic at Wind Gap, featuring several bottles of water and a container full of dehydrated food.

As I took off my socks that evening and stretched out in my tent on my air mattress, I noticed my first ever visible bruise on the bottom of my foot. The relentless pounding of the rocks all week long had left me battered and a little bruised. I was ready to be out of Pennsylvania and in ten miles I would be.

Fob

“Today, this hour, this minute is the day, the hour, the minute for each of us to sense the fact that life is good, with all of its trials and troubles, and perhaps more interesting because of them.” – Robert J. Updegraff

“Each of us makes his own weather, determines the color of the skies in the emotional universe which he inhabits.” – Fulton J. Sheen

Day 95

Just a few miles into my morning hike I reached Washington Monument State Park. The 34-foot tall Washington Monument tower, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, honors our nation’s founding father and first President. It was also used as a signal station by Union forces during the Civil War. I climbed to the top for a terrific 360 degree view. As I hiked down Monument Knob, I met a hiker aptly named Trouble heading southbound. His backpack was busted wide open and, sadly, he was returning to Harpers Ferry to get a new one. At mile 1045.3 I crossed the I-70 footbridge and then US 40.

The temperature continued to climb throughout the day, as did the humidity. I was sweating as profusely as I can ever remember, and there weren’t even any major hills to climb. Then the gnats came, first a few and then in swarms. It became obvious to me that ear sweat is crack cocaine for gnats, and I was the AT’s biggest dealer. For the first time on my journey, I donned my head net and watched the flying pests circle my head in frustration.

After a 20.2 mile day I stealth camped at mile 1060.5. I checked the weather forecast and saw that heavy rain was to begin around midnight and continue throughout the morning. Rather than break camp in a downpour, I decided to just sleep in.

Day 96

As expected, it rained much of the night and into the morning. I slept in and finally broke camp to clear skies at 11:15 a.m. A few miles into my day, I arrived at Pen Mar County Park. I glanced over at a pavilion and saw there was Trail Magic! Yes, some dear ladies and children from a local Methodist church were providing sandwiches, fruit, and drinks to us weary hikers. It’s interesting that I got trail magic (on the trail) twice in Maryland (40 AT miles), which is the same number of times I got it in all of Virginia (550 AT miles). The only negative at this stop was a rude park employee who was giving them a hard time for setting up there, even though no one was using it and there was only a handful of people in the park. Come on, man!

Shortly after exiting the park, I crossed some railroad tracks and reached the Pennsylvania border and the Mason Dixon line! I’m anxious to see how trail towns, trail magic, and people in general differ in the northern AT states. It didn’t take long to find out. Just 2.6 miles into Pennsylvania, at the crossing for PA 16, there was a cooler full of cold sodas and a box full of bags of chips. As I sat there eating Cheetos and drinking a Mountain Dew, it occurred to me that this was Pennsylvania’s way of saying, “I’m about to rip your feet and shoes to shreds with miles and miles of sharp rocks, so go ahead and have a soda and snack on me.” Then it occurred to me that states don’t actually talk.

Late in the day, at mile 1072.3, I stopped at the crowded, popular, side-by-side Tumbling Run Shelters. I saw a few familiar faces, including Brief Thief, along with several section hiking teenagers. The caretakers for the shelter were there talking to hikers and giving out cold, Trail Magic sodas! They live nearby and have been checking on and maintaining these shelters for more than twenty-five years. I got water at the stream that runs by the shelter. As I sat there on a rock, a crayfish surfaced, climbed a few inches on the small rock next to me, looked over at me, and then headed back into the water to tell his family about a Fob sighting. He would have been good boiled with hot sauce.

Since the shelters and surrounding tent sites were pretty crowded, I hiked on up the hill towards Chimney Rocks. About halfway up the hill, as I planted my foot on a rock, I slipped and fell on my side. This was my first fall on the actual AT with backpack on and trekking poles in use. Fortunately, I didn’t injure anything. I just got back up, called myself an “idiot” in my Napoleon Dynamite voice, and kept climbing.

Up at Chimney Rocks, mile 1073.6, I set up my tent after a 13.1 mile day. I hung my bear bag and then crawled into my tent at 8 p.m. At 8:40 p.m. heavy rain began to fall and was projected to last until mid-morning.

Day 97

After the Bible, the two books which have had the greatest impact on my life are Crazy Love by Francis Chan and The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by the late Stephen Covey. I’ve read Covey’s book many times and have even incorporated it into a high school Leadership class I used to teach. For some reason, I just connect with the principles in the book and find them highly practical in everyday life. I have also found them useful out here on the AT.

Habit 2 is to Begin With the End in Mind. Whether you are starting a career, building an engine, or baking a cake, you start by visualizing what you want it to look like at the end. I illustrated this to my class by having them work together on a 1000-piece puzzle without looking at the picture on the box. It’s not very motivating sorting through puzzle pieces for hours when you don’t know what you’re making. Once the picture on the box is revealed, the students gain focus and intensity because they know what they’re working toward.

Covey also suggests closing your eyes and imagining being at a funeral. You look around and see your family, friends, coaches, co-workers, etc. You then realize it’s your own funeral. As each of them takes the podium to speak about you, what do you want them to say? Given that, how do you need to live your life now in order for them to be able to say those things one day? That’s beginning (even starting today!) with the end (of your earthly life) in mind.

This principle plays out in at least two important ways on the AT. At the macro level, I have envisioned what it will be like to summit Katahdin and earn the thru-hiker title over and over again. That final prize is very motivating so I keep it in the forefront of my mind and think about it often. With that vision of the end firmly in place, I can work backwards to plan my rough timeline, gear that I’ll need, and many other things.

At the micro level, I begin each day with the projected end of the day in mind. If I want to get to x location, when do I need to depart? How much water will I need and where will I find it? Do I need to hit a trail town to resupply? Having a projected target in mind is more motivating to me than just hiking out in the morning with no plan.

My target today…the end that I had in mind…was Caledonia State Park. It had several things going for it, including a public swimming pool, concessions stand, bathrooms, water source, etc. Focusing on it would make my 97th day of hiking more purposeful. I once again got a late start due to rain, but was on the trail by 10:00 a.m. It took me a little under four hours to make the soggy 8.7 mile journey to the park.

With a thunderstorm approaching, I arrived at the park just in time to hear the lifeguards blow the whistle to clear the pool. There would be swimming for Fob this day. Outside the concession stand, several hikers were already seated and devouring lunch. I met Count, Doc, Patches, Boss, and Sam Squanch. Boss and Sam Squanch are a 20-something adorable girlfriend-boyfriend team from the United Kingdom. I absolutely love their accents and would be very content just listening to them read a phone book out loud.

After ordering my cheeseburger, hot dog, French fries, and Mountain Dew, there was a long thunder roll and a heavy rain began to fall. The lady running the concession stand said, “We’re hiker friendly here. You all come on in to stay dry.” God bless her soul! We all entered the side door with our gear and food and spread out on the floor and some chairs. I was seated next to the ice cream freezer and ordered a large one after finishing off my food. As the rain continued to fall, we sat around getting to know each other and just enjoying the moment. After about an hour Tyler, the cook, told us it was time to close the grill and he had several hot dogs left over. “Do you want them?,” he asked. In unison we answered, “Yes!” and divided them amongst ourselves.

The rain eventually stopped and I made my way over to the swimming pool bathrooms to freshen up. There were several lifeguards walking around in red Baywatch swimsuits which was a little overwhelming for a guy who has been living in the woods for three months. After getting water, I got back on the trail heading north. I stopped by the nice, but crowded, Quarry Gap Shelters and visited with Tree Beard, Waterfall, and Training Wheels. A few miles later, after a 15.5 mile day, I stopped at the Three Points campsite, mile 1089.1. I set up my tent and ate some tortillas with pepperoni and Swiss cheese. Just after getting into my tent, the rain once again began to fall.

The day didn’t turn out exactly like I had planned it. The final puzzle didn’t match the picture on the box. There was no basking in the sun after a refreshing dip in the pool. And yet, eating leftover hot dogs and ice cream with other stinking hikers in a concession stand kitchen during a torrential downpour will always be a great, great memory. In fact, looking back now, I’d say it was even better than the picture on the box.

Fob

“Connecting with the wilderness allows us to live in the flow of a meaningful, joyful life. Embracing this state of connectedness or oneness with other living beings including animals, as opposed to feeling an “otherness” or “separateness” brings a sense of harmony and enables us to be at peace with oneself and the world.” – Sylvia Dolson

Day 87

After enjoying a final cup of coffee at the Lewis Mountain Campground store, I hopped back on the trail and headed north. As I descended Hazeltop near mile 919.5, I saw the first of more than a dozen deer I would see in Shenandoah National Park (SNP).

As I approached the Big Meadows area, I saw another deer sitting in the grass off to the right. I decided to stop for a snack, so I sat down by a tree about fifteen yards from her. She looked at me but didn’t move. I chugged some water and then pulled out a Clif energy bar. As I did so, the deer stood up and stared at me. She had that “Fob, I want a bite of your Clif energy bar” look in her sultry eyes. Then she cautiously took a step toward me. With my heart racing just a tad, I pulled out my phone and started recording her. Next, I violated the principle of “keeping wildlife wild” by holding out my Clif bar. Intrigued, she took another step toward me and then another. At this point I should have stood up and left. After all, she should eat natural food. She should fear humans. She could get spooked and injure me or maybe get a disease. My head told me this maybe wasn’t a good idea. My heart told me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I should go for it.

My heart won out. I wiggled the Clif bar and she kept moving closer. Just a couple of feet from me, she stuck out her neck and licked the bar. I didn’t have a good grip on it and it fell, causing her to jump back a step. Continuing to film, I picked it up and held it out again. She approached and gave it a few more licks. She was so close I could almost smell her breath. She then decided it wasn’t for her. Or maybe she smelled my breath. Clif bars are nutritious and delicious, but they require a lot of chewing to get down. Perhaps she wasn’t up for that. She eventually slowly walked away. It was a really cool wilderness moment that I will never forget. It wasn’t necessarily the right/textbook thing to do, but it was certainly the fun, cool, and memorable thing to do. I won’t do it again because I’ve done it once. But would I do it again a first time? Absolutely! How often can you live a happy, magical moment that you will remember the rest of your life?

Fresh off this wildlife encounter, I took a short side trail to the Big Meadows Lodge where I had a Caesar’s salad and seven glasses of pink lemonade. Why? Because I could. This is SNP, the second happiest place on earth…just behind Disney World. I hiked on, passing two more deer and a small snake (#11) near Fishers Gap.

After 16.7 miles I arrived at the Skyland Resort and Restaurant around 4:30 p.m. This is a fairly upscale place so I assumed a room would be out of my price range. But since I was close, it was worth a shot. The normal price was well out of my range. The “thru-hiker rate” was substantially less, but still more than I wanted to pay. Then I thought to ask if they had a military rate. Bam! Bada-Bing! It was even less than the hiker rate and within my fair and reasonable range. So I got a 1-room cabin and took a nice hot shower.

I put on my less funky set of clothes and headed to the Skyland Restaurant for the fried chicken basket (1807 calories, according to the menu) which included half a fried chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, and steamed cauliflower. The waitress brought me the dessert menu and I selected three large scoops of ice cream…vanilla bean, chocolate, and signature blackberry…coming in at 1026 calories. As I swallowed the last bite of ice cream, a guitarist took the stage and sang and played for the next couple of hours. He asked the audience where we were from. I didn’t answer because I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’m just an American. He then asked the thirty audience members…day hikers, vacationers and me…who had seen a bear this week. Every single hand went up but mine. This hardly seemed fair.

As I laid there that night in my soft cabin bed, I reflected on my near perfect day. Where in the world do you have a close encounter with a deer, a Caesar salad with lemonade, a fried chicken dinner, three scoops of ice cream, live music, a hot shower, and a soft pillow and bed to sleep on? At Shenandoah National Park, I say, the second happiest place on earth.

Fob

It’s Lil Jan here and it’s time for my update on how things are going for me while my crazy husband is out walking every day for 6 months! My last blog left off with my anticipation of meeting Steve for the 1st time since he had been gone, about 6 weeks. Of course, I was very excited to pick him up and had butterflies in my stomach in anticipation…will he remember me? will I recognize him? will he smell REALLY bad? what will we talk about? will he like my yellow dress? So many things to consider! So I left Union SC early that morning and headed North to meet my mountain man. Beautiful weather, beautiful mountain scenery and then a much-needed, beautiful reunion! I’ll spare you all the mushy details and just say…he definitely remembered me; he looked the same only hairier and slimmer, he actually didn’t smell too bad because he had rinsed off, brushed his teeth and changed his shirt in the bathroom before I arrived; we found LOTS to talk about; and I’m pretty sure he liked my yellow dress! Other details can be read in his blog #29.

After 3 days of blissful reunion, the time came for me to return Steve  (Fob) back to the trail. My mom and dad and sister and husband joined us for a brief hello and goodbye as they were making their way to visit my other sister in Bristol, VA. It was good for us all to lay eyes on him to convince us that he is actually doing pretty well at this hiking thing! I drove away with a few tears in my eyes, prayers on my lips, and love in my heart and headed to Birmingham, AL to stay for the next few weeks. I had lots of activities planned while I was there and I was very excited to spend some quality time with my dear friends, The Diamonds and The Genrys.

God has given me many blessings in my life and one of those blessings is having friends that no matter how far away you are from them or how long it’s been since you’ve seen them, when you get together again it’s just like you’ve never been apart! The Diamonds are those kind of friends! Our paths first crossed when our families moved to Florida the same summer back in 2008. Despite the fact that they had girls several years younger than our boys, they homeschooled their kids, and unlike us were very much an “artsy” family, we quickly developed a bond that I would consider as close as family! I love them to my core and I was excited to be able to spend the next month with them and share in one of the most wonderful events…the marriage of my youngest son, Kyle. Not only were they letting me camp out in their basement for over a month, they housed & fed all 9 groomsmen for the wedding weekend. Now that’s great friends!

While I was there I was also able to see the girls (Carolyn, Mary Brook & Ann Marie) in the musical, Tartuffe. All three girls had large parts and did a fabulous job! The next week I was able to hear Jenny’s choir concert that she led for the girls’ homeschool group. I was also in town for Carolyn’s graduation. She’s got big dreams and I know God has great plans for her as well. One of the many things I love about being with the Diamonds is that there is always music going on somewhere. It may be upstairs in Ann Marie’s room as she listens and sings to the radio. It may be on the keyboard in the hallway as Mary Brook is learning a new song. It may be in the basement as Carolyn is creating a new dance routine. It may be Brad or Jenny singing whatever song pops in their heads. It very well could be all three girls singing songs from “Phantom of the Opera” or “Wicked” or “Into the Woods” in perfect harmony at the top of their lungs. Or even better, it might possibly be all of those at the same time! It is truly a wonderful thing to witness!

Birmingham is also the home place of my son, Kyle’s, new wife. Her family is another blessing in my life. Even though we haven’t known each other but a couple of years, they are just the kind of people that make you feel right at home! It was great to be able to hang out with them, worship with them, play games with them and of course, celebrate the joining of our two kids! Laci’s mom, Tami, graciously involved me in many of the wedding details which I thoroughly enjoyed and was happy to be there to help her finalize things. Tami & Tim had worked hard to make the day so special and all their hard work paid off! It was truly a blessed and beautiful day! More on that later.

After I had been in Birmingham for a few days, the Genrys and I headed to Harding University in Searcy, AR for the graduation of Kyle and Laci. We were all very excited to see the kids and be together again since it had been awhile since we had seen them. Jason and Rachel, my oldest son and his wife, were also coming in so it was going to a great family weekend…except one LARGE part of our family was not going to be present. Sir FOB wasn’t coming off the trail for graduation since he was going to come off the trail the following week for the wedding. His presence was certainly missed, but I think it was harder on him than us since we were all together.

As I’m counting my blessings in this blog, I have to put my two sons high on the list…right after God and FOB! They have both brought so much joy to my life and I pray that we all have many years of joy and blessings together and now I have two daughters to bring even more joy and blessings! As graduations go, Harding’s ceremonies are always uplifting to attend. As I stated in my last blog, I love going to Harding for whatever reason. It’s just my little slice of Heaven on Earth. The day after graduation was Mother’s Day and it was wonderful to be able to spend it in worship with my kids and of course, a big Mother’s Day dinner. I haven’t had both of my boys with me for Mother’s Day in several years, so this was a great treat. Once lunch was over, Kyle and I headed back to Birmingham in his car to start the Wedding Week activities. The 7 hour car ride was a great opportunity for us to catch up on all that’s been going on with him, his future job plans, his thoughts on the wedding and marriage, and of course for those of you that know Kyle, some deep, religious musings!

After we got back to Birmingham, the next big news was that Steve surprised us and came into town a day early! He had had a rough week of weather and was ready to be back amongst his family and friends living a “normal” lifestyle (like bathing every day and sleeping in a bed!) I was very happy to have him back with me and was as content as a pig in a mud hole, especially once Jason and Rachel arrived because then my family unit was all together again in one place! That puts a smile on my face anytime!

So the wedding weekend finally came around and I was so happy to have my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews from both sides of the family in attendance, along with friends from all over. We couldn’t have asked for better weather for an outside wedding and everything was just perfect! God was certainly smiling down on us all as he witnessed this blessed union. The bride and groom were so happy and I pray that they will always remember how much love was felt by all that were in attendance on that day. You can read more and see more pictures on FOB’s blog #40, if you’re interested.

Once the wedding festivities were over, then I had to face the fact that in one more day, I’d be living the single life again. It was time for my mountain man to head back to the mountains. I knew he was getting antsy to be back on the trail, but he was also sad to have to leave me again. We didn’t have a set plan for our next rendezvous, but we knew it was going to be at least 6 weeks or so. As I’ve said before, being apart from one another is not something we look forward to, but in order for him to accomplish this “bucket list” item, he’s got to move on. He knows that I am with him in spirit and that I’m praying and thinking about him constantly and I’m know he’s doing the same for me.

I planned to stay in Birmingham for another week and a half so that I could see Kyle and Laci when they returned from their honeymoon. They had a great time visiting the Seattle, Washington area and I was glad to spend one more night with them before I headed back to South Carolina.

Before I sign off, I would be remiss not to mention the blessings of being able to spend time with my parents and sister and husband while Steve has been gone. I know that I will treasure the memories of this time here with them and I hope that I’ve brought some joy to them by me being here. I have been truly blessed by two wonderful, God-fearing parents that have raised me to know and appreciate the love of our Heavenly Father. My older sister, Carol, and her husband, Scott, have been so wonderful to let me call their home my home for a while. I was also able to spend some time with each of their daughters, Summer and Dana, which was a treat as well. While I’ve been here, I’ve developed a new hobby…adult coloring books…the newest craze. Carol and I usually start our day with a cup of coffee, a coloring book and gel pens! It’s really not just for kids anymore and it’s great mental therapy, just like the experts profess it to be!

So, what happened next? I left for Virginia and spent a few days there with my friends Chuck and Jana (yet again another blessing). We lived in Virginia while Steve was stationed at the Pentagon and it was great to see some old friends from our time there.  I then headed to Slatington, Pennsylvania, to pick up my crazy, hiking mountain man!  We’re staying in Kempton at a nice Bed & Breakfast for three days to catch up and bask in each other’s love…and the blessings just keep coming!

God bless,
Lil Jan