Call Me “Lucky”

Lucky
Lucky

NOTE: Yesterday was the three-year anniversary of the first day of my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trial. How time flies.

Almost every thru-hiker I met on Appalachian Trial in 2015 had a trail name, as did most section hikers. A few waited to get a name more or less assigned to them, growing out of some incident on the trail. But that strategy was fraught with peril — you could fall in the mud and get a name like  Dirty Bottom. So most hikers picked their own name.

When I decided to hike from Georgia to Maine several friends told me how “fortunate” I was to have the health to at least try –I had a birthday on the trail and was 73 years old when I finished — and a wife who had said, “Yes.”

“Fortunate” didn’t resonate with me, but “Lucky” did, so I made that my trail name.

I don’t know the real names of most of the hikers I met.  Some I know now because we’ve gotten together for reunions of sorts, or I’ve kept in touch by email. But we still call each other by our trail names.

Here are some of the people I met on the A.T., and the origin of their name.

GRRRR

GRRRR
GRRRR

GRRRR got his name from his youngest daughter, who is called “Goose.” When GRRRR came home from Viet Nam he brought with him a painting of a tiger. He and his wife would asked Goose, who was just learning to talk, what a tiger says and she would answer GRRRR. And then she began calling her daddy GRRRR.  I met him on the A.T. but since then we’ve gone kayaking together, more than 100 miles down the Roanoke River this past spring.  I posted this story about our river trip.

 Temper

Snacks and Temper
Snacks, L, and Temper

She was not a big woman, I’d bet she didn’t weigh much more than 100 pounds. But when I first met her I figured it was best to avoid any disagreement. You just know, with a name like Temper she must have a short fuse. But, turned out, her name had nothing to do with anger management or lack thereof and everything to do with an unusual job — she had worked in a chocolate factory where she “tempered” chocolate. After I finished I got to play trail angel at Snowbird, in the mountains of North Carolina, for Temper and her boyfriend, Snacks, after she finished the northern half of the A.T. and began hiking south to Georgia.

Crockman

Crockman's crocks
Crockman’s crocks

Back in the real world, Crockman was a carpenter, so his name had nothing to do with his occupation. It came from his footwear.  He didn’t wear boots, he wore crocks, the only hiker I met who did that.

O311

This man got out of the Marines in the summer before his thru-hike. His MOS –Military Occupational Specialty — was 0311 — Infantry.

Iceman

Iceman
Iceman

He was a section hiker and trail angel par excellence. He brought ice to a little girl who had broken her arm on the trail. She named him. And he helped me multiple times.

I wrote about my last encounter with Iceman here. It was this past summer, on the A.T. in Pennsylvania.

Since 2015 Iceman has finished the entire A.T., section by section.

Iceman, Viking, and Nine!, a man I hiked a Grand Canyon back country trail  with last October, and I are trying to get permits to hike the John Muir Trail, in California, this summer.

Eddy

Eddy
Eddy

She is an expert kayacker – she runs Class 5 rapids. And an eddy, of course, is a river word, “a circular movement of water, counter to a main current, causing a small whirlpool.”

Last summer Eddy rafted down the Colorado River with a bunch of other folks.  Early in the trip someone accidentally hit her in the mouth with his paddle and knocked out four of her front teeth.  She stuck them back in and continued the trip.

California

California
California

California was an EMT who was moving to the East Coast, to a new job. He had some time off in between and decided to hike a few hundred miles of the A.T.

We hiked together for a week or 10 days and any time I whined about anything he would tell me, “It’s all good, Lucky.”

He was from — how did you guess? — California.

Tadpole

He planned to join the Navy after his hike with a goal of becoming a Seal, a modern day frogman. And, as you know, a tadpole is baby frog.

Cashmere

She was a 50-some year old college professor who taught organic chemistry. 

And her trail name?  She said she sweated a lot. Get it? Sweater? Cashmere?

This woman could really hike.  She finished the A.T. in less than four months –the average hiker finishes in just under six– and, last I heard, was hiking the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail.

How long did I take? I’m glad you asked: four months and some few odd days. OK, OK, four months and 29 days.

J

J
J

J, just the letter “J,” a retired firemen from Georgia, picked that name in memory of his brother, John, who died in infancy.

J and I hiked a little over 100 miles together, over mountains in North Carolina and Tennessee.  The closer we got to Damascus, Virginia —town food, hot shower, clean clothes — the more we wanted get there. So one cold, snowy night we agreed to skip breakfast and get an extra early start, leave before sunup and hike by headlamp.  J was an early riser, he like to drink coffee before the day began.  That morning was no exception; he had his coffee and then called out in the dark, “Lucky?”

“It is time?” I asked, and he said yes.

 I rolled out, dressed, and packed up as quickly as I could. It was still snowing. 

As we were leaving, J asked me to check the time.  I did.  It was 4:20 a.m., almost two hours earlier than the start time we had agreed on.   J insisted that he had no idea, and he sounded so sincere. I told him, of course, to sell that somewhere else.

[J did not finish in 2015 but in 2017 he started over, and hiked from Georgia to Maine.]

Verminator

Mice had eaten holes in his backpack and he was determined to trap and kill as many of them as he could.

The Hiking Vikings

The Hiking Vikings
The Hiking Vikings

This is easy.  Take one look at their head gear, knitted for them by a sister-in-law, Sara.   I guess I hiked 1,000 miles or more, off and off, with The Hiking Vikings.  They were fun to hike with in part because they were always in such a good mood, no matter what the weather was like, or the trail.  My wife, Donna, and I have been on holiday with them since the thru-hike and the Viking and I did a 100-miler on the A.T. in Pennsylvania this past summer.   I think The Hiking Vikings, AKA “The Famous Hiking Vikings,” are going to be hikers for life.  They’ve named their firstborn son Asher Thomas — A.T.

Lucky and The Hiking Vikings
Lucky and The Hiking Vikings

All in due time I’m going to post several stories about those two.

Viking and I plan to do another 100 miler in May, on the A.T. in Virginia.

Slowman

How slow was Slowman? Pretty slow. I passed right many

Slowman
Slowman

thru-hikers who were laying around in town, taking a day off. Or in shelters, sleeping in.  But I only passed three on the trail: One was legally blind.  One was injured.  And Slowman.

WYSIWYG, pronounced Whiz-e-wig

You might never have guessed this one. It’s an acronym for “What You See Is What You Get.”

 Between

Between and his mother, Mother Nature
Between and his mother, Mother Nature, at the end of the hike.

He was 17, going on 18, between high school and college.  Between hiked with his Mom who was called Mother Nature.  The three of us were together at the end, on Mt. Katahdin in Maine. Between and his mother are German. I met three other foreigners thru-hiking the trail including Canada’s most honored Olympian, who called herself Red Feather.  

Not Yet

It was his first day on the trail, and he wasn’t going anywhere special, certainly not starting a thru-hike. He was just trying out his equipment.

Someone asked, “Do you have a trail name?”

And he replied, “Not Yet.”

NOTE: GRRRR told me told me about a hiker who tried go by his initials, “DJ,” but word had spread and every time he arrived at a shelter someone would ask, “Are you the one they call ‘Ice Pee?'”
Seems that DJ hadn’t wanted to get up one cold night so he peed in his Jetboil — his cooking pot.

“The temperature dropped to 15 degrees and all water froze,”” GRRRR said.  “Next morning he had to cook his pee to empty the pot. Hence the name, ‘ Ice Pee.’ “

 

Scout
Scout

Other hikers I met on my thru-hike: Apollo, Atticus, Attrition, Badger, Bolt, Bridges, Blissful, Blister, Bruin, Claus, Cork and Daddy Smurf.

Tweet
Tweet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also, Deadline, Desperado, Dude, Elf, Elmer, Felix, Gator, Goat, Good Knight, Goodpeople, Griswold, Honey Bunn, Hulk, Ironman, Ivy, J-Squared, Jax, and Jingles.

Griswold
Griswold

Krumzs, Little Debbie, Lunchbox, Mango, Mashed Potatoes, Medicine Man, Nemo, Old Man, Ox, Pa Bert, Pac-Man, and Pacidor.

Rambler, Rebel Yell, Rising Sun, Sasquatch, Scout, Selfie, Sheepshead, Smiles, Smokes, SNAFU, Snowshoe, Storm, Stretch, Styles, Sycamore, Thunder, Tweet, Twisted, Wallace, Wayfarer and Yoyo.

Coming Monday: What Is The Point?

The [Warm] Iceman

The text message I received on July 8 said:

Good morning Lucky!”

Welcome back to Pennsylvania. Where do you think you will be on Monday or Tuesday evening. It would be nice to see you again. Iceman”

Lucky, L, and Viking
Lucky, L, and Viking

My trail name is Lucky.  And, earlier this month, Viking [AKA Nate Harrington] and I were on the second day of six-day, 100-mile hike on the Appalachian Trail, headed south to Pen Mar, MD.  This message was good news. Iceman, who has hiked all of the A.T. himself, section by section, is a trail angel I met on my A.T. thru-hike two years ago. Or, I should say: he met me.

* * *

On May 8, 2015, I hiked 24.1 miles into Port Clinton, PA, where I first laid eyes on Iceman, AKA David Martin of Lancaster, PA.

[How did he get his trail name? He brought ice to a young girl who had fallen and injured her leg. She named him.]

I blogged my 2015 hike from Georgia to Maine on Trailjournals.com. This is what I wrote about that first encounter:

Lucky and Iceman, last week
Lucky, L, and Iceman, last week

There to meet me as I came off the mountain was Iceman – he had read my blog, knew I might arrive this afternoon, and drove to Port Clinton to offer me some trail magic, beginning with an ice cold Coke and a ride to the pavilion where Crockman, Umbrella Man, Temper and I planned to spend the night.”

He invited me to his home and took me to the Cracker Barrel for supper. What an end to an already good day…thanks to Iceman, a trail angel who came right out of the blue, here I am in Lancaster, Pennsylvania: full, clean, and with clean clothes to wear tomorrow.”

Next day he drove me back to Port Clinton, took all of us to an outfitter where we could buy equipment we needed and to a grocery store to resupply –a huge help– and then back to the trailhead.

Almost two months later, on July 5, 2015, in Maine, nine days from Mt. Katahdin, the end of the hike, I blogged that I had run out of food.

I had instant potatoes for breakfast and no lunch. And there was no chance for me to buy more food until noon tomorrow in Caratunk, ME. And then along came Iceman bearing gifts for me and all the other thru-hikers [more than a dozen] gathered at Pierce Pond, waiting for morning to be ferried across the Kennebec River. Iceman had messaged me earlier asking where I’d be and then he showed up with soft drinks and lots of high calorie junk food that hikers crave.”

[He gave me extra food which allowed me to skip a time consuming resupply at Caratunk and reach Monson, 40 miles away, in two days instead of three, cutting a full day off of my trip.]

* * *

And now, here he was again, texting, asking where I’d be in a couple of days. I knew what that meant and so did Viking.

We were right.

Iceman arrived at Quarry Gap Shelters with three large pizzas, cookies, and soft drinks, enough not only for Viking and me, but, as usual, other hikers at the shelter.

Iceman reads hiker blogs, picks out hikers he wants to help, and then helps them and everyone around them. He knew Viking and I were doing a section hike in Pennsylvania because he had seen the video Viking had posted about our upcoming trip.

So how was our hike?

Terrific.

Good hikes start with the people you’re with.

I had hiked, off and on, with The Hiking Vikings [Nate and his wife, Sharon] for, I’m guessing, more than 1,000 miles two years ago, and they were good company. Sharon [Hiking], who is going to have a child in the fall, their second, did not get to come on this trip. 

Parts of the trail were NOT all that easy.
Parts of the trail were NOT all that easy.

Viking and I averaged 16.67 miles a day, a little more than we had planned. We finished the hike a half a day little early because this section was so easy, even for someone who is not in good shape.

I had hiked 154 miles around my neighborhood to prepare, but I’m not in hiker shape. Far from it. I’m way too fat.

There were a couple of [to me] hard climbs, including a really difficult climb coming south out of Duncannon, PA. But this section also has what I think it the easiest 14 miles on entire A.T. [mile 1119.7 – 1133.6] around Boiling Springs, PA.

Our hike was a tiny bit like my thru-hike:

     –There was Iceman, of course.

     –We got rained on several times.

     –One of my feet blistered, and I’m going to lose three toenails.

Why?

Most of the trail is a "green tunnel." But sometimes you get a treat, like this.
This time of year most of the trail is a “green tunnel.” But sometimes you get a treat, like this.

My boots are too small. They are size 11s; I used to be a size 10 and your boots should be a size to a size and a half larger than your foot, to allow for swelling. But my feet expanded on the thru-hike to a permanent size 11 so I need a bigger boot. Yes, yes, I finished the thru-hike in these boots and I hiked almost 200 miles in them last year. I thought they had stretched enough for me to keep wearing them, but I was wrong.

   –We ran into a lot of friendly NoBos –northbound thru-hikers– and a nutcake or two.

   –We started with a plan, and then altered it several times take advantage of conditions, like the morning we went through Duncannon and the trail ran within a few feet of a restaurant. Backpacks were lined up against the wall outside. That’s was a clue. We had already eaten a trail breakfast [Pop-Tarts and hot chocolate for me] but, naturally, we ate again.

Viking is 40-some years younger than me, but I wore him out. Oh, yea! Most of the time he was eating my dust.

That’s not the truth, but it is a fact.

He would stop and talk to almost everybody we met, gathering Hiker Tales.  I would keep trudging along. And when he finished talking Viking would come after me, double time, until he caught up. Sometimes all that running with a pack on his back wore him out.

And that’s a fact.

Coming Friday: Salvation, Part I