Odyssey 2009 Journals

Sunday--March 22, 2009
Trail Day--001
Trail Mile--24.9/0025
Location--Riverdale, North Dakota

What a great benefit to have Gordon's (Gordon Smith) support again. He came to my home, just like last year, picked me up, and hauled me up here, to Stanton, North Dakota, the Knife River Indian Villages--where I passed during my outbound Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail hike in '04.

We had time to spare yesterday so we did a bit of recon on the trail, where I'll be hiking the next few days. Oh, lots of snow, and industrial mud now that the temperature is above freezing during the day. This area of North Dakota has had 100-150 inches of snow this past winter and all of it has stuck--up until a few days ago.

Gordon also drove me by the Sakakawea South Shore, where I've many friends. I didn't get to see John and Renee Lindemann, from Golden Valley, as they're wintering in New Mexico, nor was I able to track down Debbi Biffert, a dear friend from Halliday. But I did spend some time with Allan and Gail Lynch from Dunn Center, the folks who own the land where is located the Knife River Flint Quarries. If you haven't read my account of this remarkable and historic site, please go back to Odyssey 2006 and check it out--pretty amazing.

The hike today begins at the Knife River north of Stanton. From here, it's a roadwalk to the beginning of the North Country National Scenic Trail at Lake Sakakawea State Park near Pick City. Gordon has me to the Indian Villages by eight. I shoot a few stills, and a video, and I'm off into the cold wind--and a cold drizzle.

The hike is clicking fine. In a mile or so I stop for another video shot where the road crosses Knife River--jammed and flooded with snowmelt and ice. Here I pause to say a prayer for safe and successful passage, this odyssey.

By three I'm standing by the sign that marks the beginning of the North Country Trail at Lake Sakakawea State Park. Sarah, who's been out to the overlook with her boyfriend, takes some shots of me standing by the trail sign.

From the sign, in the park, there's close to two miles of certified trail. I give it a go for maybe a couple hundred yards--till I start postholing clean up to my waist. On down the trail I can see ten foot drifts--not good. I know that John, Lake Sak Park Ranger will be disappointed that I was unable to hike his trail. I did try, John, just too much snow, like you told me!

Late afternoon I manage the three-mile crossing of the Garrison Dam--in 40-50 mph winds. Gordon is waiting at the Honey Hole Convenience Store, on the hill in Riverdale, where I call it a day.

Back at the little Sakakawea Motel in Pick City, just enough time for a hot shower before enjoying a great evening with Wayne and Myra Axtman, more dear friends from Hazen (Lake Sak South Shore). They drove up and treated Gordon and I--a grand evening.

It's so good to be on the trail again. The news: "Two American journalists captured by North Korean soldiers--Japan mulls missile shield for North Korean rocket." Sure won't miss the likes of all this sad news for the next six months.

"I just wanted to do this while I could.

I know it's going to be a hardship financially,

but I probably wouldn't be able to do this when I'm 60."

[Ed Talone, NCT thru-hiker, 1994]

Monday--March 23, 2009
Trail Day--002
Trail Mile--24.6/050
Location--Underwood

I've a roadwalk this morning, from Riverdale on up to the Audubon Wildlife Management Area. While I'm heading in that direction, Gordon goes ahead to check conditions for us. In awhile, he's back to intercept me along the road. "No use hiking up that way today."Gordon says. "Or anytime soon, for that matter. Rangers at Audubon tell me the tour route through is closed, will be until sometime next month. The road is impassable, with deep drifts around the dikes."he continues.

Since starting out this morning, the wind has really come up, and it's turning very cold. Don't know what the wind chill factor might be for the low thirties and wind velocities gusting to 40-45 mph, but it tends to set a definite chill to things.

We'd taken a look at the McClusky Canal, where the trail passes, on our way up last Saturday. Drove out to one of the road crossings. Muddy conditions and drifted snow by the canal cuts.

We've been listening to the weather report and it isn't good. Blizzard conditions are forecast to begin late this afternoon. We can see it, it's coming. Gordon suggests I stick to ND200 and keep heading east. That's what Ed Talone and Gordon's sister, Sue, did when finishing their westbound NCT hike under similar conditions back in October 2004. So stick to ND200 it is.

By four, the wind is gusting to near 50. The sky is black--and it COLD. A fellow running an eighteen-wheeler out of coalmines stops his rig by me, jumps out, and runs around. "There's a blizzard coming in. You gotta get off this road and find shelter." Wide-eyed look on his face. I explain that Gordon will be picking me up and I'll be okay.

And Gordon comes none too soon. The ranger at Audubon had told him about a little motel off the beaten path in Underwood. We head over there. One room left. Thank you, Lord. We're no sooner in than the freezing rain begins.

Saw many deer today, more than a few were roadkill. Many pheasant and grouse, too, along with a roadrunner and a big fox. Don't know how anything manages to survive up here in these frozen barrens. I guess the Canadian geese just don't migrate anymore. They're everywhere here, thousands of them, all apparently healthy and happy.

Gordon had done a little grocery shopping for us before picking me up this evening. Our room is more of an apartment, complete with separate bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and dining room. We'll be here, looks like, for at least two days, perhaps more, before the roads are open again.

It's late evening now. There's a half-inch of ice on everything, and the snow is just beginning. Spring is officially here now, but this ain't it!

"The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere."
[William Cullen Bryant]

Tuesday--March 24, 2009
Trail Day--003
Trail Mile--00/050
Location--Underwood

It is daylight, time to lift my pack and go. But today is no day to be hiking this trail. It's 23 out, wind chill near zero, and the wind is already gusting to 25 mph--and it's still snowing. In my pack I am carrying the most minimal of "three-season" gear. This day is a very depths-of-winter day, not like those of early spring.

Forgive me dear friends, but I will not venture forth this day. I will stay inside where I might remain warm and dry. Oh yes, I want to go, I do want to go. What a discouragement, right at the beginning of this great adventure.

Now is, indeed, the time for patience, the time to remain confident and strong in both my determination and my commitment to this great task. Above all, I must keep a positive attitude, remain resolute of will.

"An inexhaustible good nature is one of the most precious gifts of heaven,

spreading itself like oil over the troubled sea of thought,

and keeping the mind smooth and equable in the roughest weather."

[Washington Irving]

Wednesday--March 25, 2009
Trail Day--004
Trail Mile--00/50
Location--Underwood

What a true blessing, being out of this blizzard. Sid, owner/innkeeper here at Lincoln Park Motel in Underwood has taken us in. We've been under his roof for the past two days now and will remain here for two more, as this storm lingers--more snow, driven by brutally cold winds. North and South Dakota are gripped in a weather crisis. Areas are under national emergency. Rivers are jammed with snowmelt and ice dams, folks are being displaced from their homes--a sad situation. Yes, a true blessing to be in and out of it, to be safe and secure.

I want nothing more than to head out again, to follow the wind, whither it may lead, but this has not been the day to go.

"What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow?
Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go.
No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait:
The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate."
[Sarojini Naidu]

Thursday--March 26, 2009
Trail Day--005
Trail Mile--00/050
Location--Underwood

Another day to wait, holed up in Underwood, though we do make an attempt. I try getting out this morning, in the wind, the snow, with wind chill around zero, but turn back due to concern about Gordon and the van. With street tires it's hard getting the van to go, and when rolling, it's scary trying to haul 'er down. The roads have been scraped but remain pretty much solid ice. We had a half-inch of freezing rain before the snow came in last Monday. Over a foot has since accumulated and it's near white-out again as I write this. US83 is ice, as is ND200. There's been no sanding or salting, even at the intersections. Vehicles are in the ditches along--a very bad situation.

I knew I was rolling the dice, starting this early. Spring conditions were shaping great until this blizzard hit--and the forecast isn't rosy, more bitter cold days, high winds, even more snow. It's day-to-day. We'll keep our spirits up, knowing the trail is waiting for us out there--then take a look at conditions again tomorrow.

"Touch passion when it comes your way...It's rare enough as it is.

Don't walk away when it calls you by name."

[J. Michael Straczynsky]

Friday--March 27,2009
Trail Day--006
Trail Mile--48.8/098
Location--ND200, McClusky

No, I'm not hiking 49 miles today. That would be the total mileage from point A to point B if I stayed the McClusky Canal rather than ND200. The canal runs back and forth, sorta like your pup does when you take him with you to the woods. Today's hike is an even 25 miles, by road, to near McClusky, half the canal miles. I have not the winter gear to endure this depths-of-winter snow. All the county secondary roads are impassable due to snow, so Gordon would be unable to get anywhere near the canal. So it's head east on the highway.

I've decided to stay with the mileages calculated for my itinerary, for ease of keeping track day-to-day. I'll deduct the excess off the mileage at the end. By then there'll probably be many more miles anyway.

The temperature is in the single digits this morning. The roads are pure ice, vehicles still in the ditches. Gordon inches along, finally dropping me by the side of the road east of Underwood, where I ended the day, four days ago. It's bitter cold, but I'm bundled up best I can be, with every layer of clothing I've got, short sleeve, long sleeve, down vest, fleece jacket (not in my gear list, but brought it along just in case--smart move), and my great new GoLite Goretex jacket.

I'm no sooner on the highway heading east than I hear this incredible grinding noise. It's a snowplow coming toward me. I can see it a mile away, the ice and snow making a great cloud as the plow approaches. I move to the other side of the road and manage an amazing video as he passes. Check the video album in a week or so. I'll be getting this card off to my Webmaster, CyWiz, tomorrow.

Nothing is moving out here today, no bunnies, no birdies, no wildlife of any kind.

The sun finally starts melting the sheet of ice that's built up on the highway, even though 19 is the high for the day. It is absolutely merciful there's been no wind. Remarkable, too, the sun has shone all day. Have managed to keep my core temperature up, but have become dehydrated. Water in my water bottle has frozen solid in my belt pouch.

We take a break for lunch at Bev's Cafe in Turtle Lake, then it's back to the frozen tarmac to hammer out the afternoon miles. Gordon collects me at six, five miles west of McClusky. We stay at the neat little R&H mom-n-pop motel run by Darliss in McClusky.

"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness.

Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost."

[H. Jackson Brown, Jr.]

Saturday--March 28, 2009
Trail Day--007
Trail Mile--50.1/148
Location--ND200 west of Goodrich

Another fudge-the-mileage day. The canal runs pretty much south to north, making little headway east. ND200 runs east!

We're out at eight-thirty. No sense starting any earlier in this cold. It's single digits as Gordon drops me off at Center Avenue, the geographical middle of North Dakota. The sun's out and the wind is calm, which makes for a little better conditions--but not much. Single digits be single digits!

This roadwalk will be 25 miles again today, to a point a few miles east of Goodrich.

Before I'm out of North Dakota this time, and with the miles hammered on ND200 during my L&CNHT treks, I will have hiked ND200 across nearly the entire state of North Dakota, from Grassy Butte in the west, to near the Minnesota State line in the east.

The sun stays with me most of the day. The wind comes up--and cuts, but not so bad, as it remains below 20 mph. Another okay day, though unbelievably cold, up here on these plains of North Dakota.

Oh, I've crossed the McClusky Canal a couple of times now; got some pictures. Sure glad I decided not to try and hike along that way--entirely too much snow to bust through.

Gordon is waiting at mile marker 247, the end of my 25 for the day, and we're back in our snug (and warm) little room in McClusky by six.

"Few people know how to take a walk.

The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature,

good humor, vast curiosity, good speech, good silence, and nothing too much."

[Ralph Waldo Emerson]

Sunday--March 29, 2009
Trail Day--008
Trail Mile--27.9/176
Location--ND200, Sykeston

This'll be a pretty even-mileage day, roadwalking ND200 compared to wandering along the canals. On the highway I'll be hammering another 25.

Really great stay in McClusky at R&H Motel, Darliss, Innkeeper. Gordon drives me the 20 back east and deposits me on the road right at nine. Not the makings for a great day. Fog--couple 100 yards visibility is it. Temperature is 21, and of course, no sun. Looks like it might burn off, but the fog hangs most of the day, and when it lifts, well, now it's overcast clouds. Some wind, out of the east, of course, but not too bad.

At six miles, Gordon is waiting. I walk up looking like Santa Clause, pure white beard, fully iced up from the moisture-laden fog. Gordon looks at me- wide-eyed. "Take my picture, Gordon." He gets a neat video (just the least unsteady).

Received a nice email from Delores, lives here in North Dakota--much encouragement. She comments about the first robins to arrive. Saw one this morning, staggering around in the snow, post-holing up to his butt. Poor fellow had a devil of a time getting airborne, problem de-icing I suppose. Anyway, Delores, thanks for your kindness--I sure feel much better seeing the robin, 'cause I'm obviously not the only dufus that's arrived in North Dakota way too early!

By five I've got the 25 done. Gordon collects me a little west of Sykeston, and we head in to the little berg. Great local pub. Get permission to park the van out front. Thanks Kenny. I rearrange things to make room in the back of the van, and move in. Gordon cranks the engine, gets the interior nice and toasty. Oh yes, this is home!

"...intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that seem impossible...

It is with an iron will that they embark on the most daring of all endeavors...

to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the unknown."

[Anon.]

Monday--March 30,2009
Trail Day--009
Trail Mile--24.8/201
Location--ND200, Carrington

Another equal-mileage day. I'll pound another 25 out, out here on ND200. I'll end the day in Carrington, pretty much due south of New Rockford, where the canals end. So, after today, it's pretty much a roadwalk either way, up there or down here.

A very comfortable night in the van, next the bar in Sykeston. Got a chance to meet a few of the locals. One interesting old chap, Alvin, now 80, discovered the first natural gas pocket here in North Dakota. It's on his land, well, his son's land, land that came down through the family. Should see his eyes light up when he tells the story--showed us a painting of a pipe sticking out of the ground, all torched up, huge gas flame. The find hasn't panned out as of yet, but T. Boone Pickens, down in Texas, is sure interested. Good luck with your wells, Alvin. Yup, neat little town, kind folks.

First order of business this morning is to open up the Country Cafe. More locals, the klatch, more fun--and a good breakfast to get me going.

And Gordon finally gets me going, a tad past nine, about seven miles west of Sykeston.

The hike today, the 25 into and past Carrington, is setting to be a tough one. Hard wind, very cold, driving much snow, is quartering me front-left, from the northeast. Not a pleasant place to be today, ND200. However, from the report, seems we're lucky. Just south of us I-94 is closed around Bismarck, so too, I-29 east of us near Fargo.

The driving snow eases off some by noon, but the wind remains relentless. I'm unable to breathe through my mouth, lungs burn, must slow down and breathe through my nose. Gordon checks on me often, usually every hour, every three miles or so. More neat videos today. It's spring, the end of March now. But you couldn't tell these days from those more common to the dead of winter. No surprise, not much being said lately, from that loud congregation, those who worship at the altar of the Church of Global Warming.

By five the day has turned from driving snow to driving sleet. I'm relieved when I reach mile marker 297, the 25s in the bag.

Gordon is waiting. We return to Carrington, the Stop'n'Go. We're given permission to park the night, where the big rigs park the night, out back.

"I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things.

My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.

O Great Beyond. O the keen call of the flute."
[Rabindranath Tagore]

Tuesday--March 31, 2009
Trail Day--010
Trail Mile--50.3/251
Location--ND200, Glenfield

The roadwalk is certainly much shorter again today. On ND200, I'll cover only 22 miles.

But as the day progresses, do these 22 miles become the most difficult extended miles I've ever had to endure through the cold.

Temperature's started out in the low 20s, with heavy snow, driven by a northeast wind that quartered me from the left front--25 per, gusting to the high 30s, all day.

Gordon stayed with me for a few miles, until the heater fan in the van quit. I continued the road as he returned to Carrington to have it repaired.

To Glenfield, from where Gordon turned, is 17 miles. I'm out here in it with no support. I'll not detail the next five hours for you. Folks don't take much delight in listening to other's misadventures. Suffice to say, and no doubt, you'll find the videos I've managed quite remarkable. I'll get this latest camera card off to my Webmaster in the next day or two.

"Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time;

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace...

That I may be reasonably happy in this life

and supremely happy with Him forever in the next."
[Reinhold Niebuhr]

Wednesday--April 1, 2009
Trail Day--011
Trail Mile--27.9/279
Location--ND1, near Hannaford

The highway miles on ND200 and ND1, from Glenfield to just north of Hannaford, add up to 24.

Another cold day fighting the wind-driven snow. High temperatures haven't gotten above freezing for many days, with nightly lows dropping to the mid teens. Seems there'll be no sign of spring anytime soon. Looking for an APRIL FOOL? I'll be yours this year!

The scene today is pretty much lined-up power poles, to a dim point on the horizon--when the wind and snow let up long enough to enable that much visibility. The sun actually makes a show for a few short moments, before the gray shroud returns. Not a great day for hiking the highway, but here it is. I make the best of it.

Late afternoon, my long eastbound hike o'er ND200 ends as I turn south toward Valley City on ND1. No shoulder and much traffic. Not the most exciting place to hike. Aw, come on old man, get your head straight!

As the wind and driving snow intensify, Gordon collects me--and another spring day trekking North Dakota comes to an end.

"Ninety percent of this game is half mental."
[Yogi Berra]

Thursday--April 2, 2009
Trail Day--012
Trail Mile--49.7/329
Location--CR21/117th Avenue, north of Valley City

We've quit making any attempt to get up and out early, early being any time before nine. But this morning is there streaming this strange light--the sun is shining! So we hustle and Gordon has me back on the road a little after nine. A cold morning, 22 degrees, but with the sun up and no wind, even at nine, it's already the most pleasant day.

An hour on the road brings me to Hannaford and the Stri-King Cafe. Oh yes, we head in for breakfast--then manage to burn an hour.

A distance south of Hannaford I leave ND1 to head over to Astabula Crossing, the bridge across Astabula Lake, some ten miles distant. Here I cross an official, certified section of the NCT--totally snowed in. The view from the rim, down to the lake, is the highlight for this the day, also the climb of the hike so far, back and up to the rim on the far side.

In the evening, after a fine 25-miler, we head on down to Valley City and the Hilltop Truckstop. From the cafe in Hannaford, I'd sent an email to Deb Koepplin, NCTA Valley City Chapter contact. She was able to stop by and we enjoyed the evening together.

"The cold is a good counselor, but it is cold."
[Antonio Porchia]

Friday--April 3, 2009
Trail Day--013
Trail Mile--22.7/352
Location--CR21, south of Valley City

Breakfast at Hilltop Truckstop. Very cold this morning, 11 degrees, but I'm out and hiking toward Valley City a little after nine. It's a virtual wonderland as I begin, hoar frost on everything, the grass, the trees, the barb-wire fence lines, everything. I stop for many pictures.

In awhile a fellow comes from his truck to greet me. He'd pulled off by one of the half-section roads. Josh, a local, is interested in what I'm up to. He's familiar with the NCT, gives me encouragement--and a handful of tangerine Emergen-C packets, the same high Vitamin C energy supplement that Carolyn, my personal trainer, has me taking.

I reach Valley City a little before one, just as a CPR freight trains is crossing above, from one rim of the valley to the other, some 100 feet above the Sheyenne. I cross the Sheyenne River at the north city limits. The river is really up, nearly over the road. Not a good sign, as the roadwalk follows the river along for a number of miles, in the valley south of Valley City, where the river is crossed a number of times.

There's a certified section of trail through Valley City, but it's not accessible. The Sheyenne River is wreaking havoc to the city. Both sides of the narrow river have been sandbagged and protected as best can be with dirt dikes. The pedestrian bridge across the Sheyenne has sandbags over four feet high blocking both approaches.

Machinery is everywhere, dump trucks, backhoes, frontend loaders--the streets and sidewalks are a muddy mess. Very unsettling for the locals, I'm sure, as Valley City looks to be a neat, clean town.

I head south, out of town, staying on CR21. There are five crossings of the Sheyenne between Valley City and Kathryn. At the first four, the river has risen to just below the bridge pavement. At the last one, it's over the bridge.

The road leaves the valley just the other side of the bridge. I can see the road where it climbs to the valley rim. But here we are, at the last crossing, and no go. A four-wheel drive pickup, local fellow no doubt, ventures on into it. He makes it through, a distance of some 200 yards, but not before going in over his hubs. He'd put 'er in four-wheel drive, a wise decision.

Gordon and I decide no way we're going to try taking the van through. So, to keep this trek intact, it's time to do some fording, over and back. I'm in up to my knees before I know it. The water is freezing cold, and it's really moving. Seems to take forever to cross. No feeling in my feet anymore. On dry land, the other side, I turn quickly, to return, before changing my mind. I must fight the current going back. I become very fatigued--and greatly relieved to get back to the van.

Gordon turns around and we head back to Valley City, a 30 miler recorded in the journal for today.

In the morning, Gordon will drive around by another route to get my day started, on the other side of the bridge.

"If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.
[Frank A. Clark]

Saturday--April 4, 2009
Trail Day--014
Trail Mile--22.6/375
Location--SR27, east of Ft. Ransom

The forecast was for more snow overnight, but it hasn't arrived yet. I say yet, because the day starts cold, overcast, and windy, a snowy kind of day up here, so I've learned.

Gordon has figured how to get me to the other side of the flooded bridge, the one I forded to end the day last. He has me ready to hike at ten.

The road leads right up and out of the Sheyenne Valley, to the little village of Kathryn. On the way I cross a designated section of the NCT, an abandoned railgrade. I stop to take a few pictures and get some video footage--and to think about how all this snow, the flooding, have caused me to pass a different way. The old grade leads through Kathryn and back down into the valley of the Sheyenne, not the place to be hiking right now. You'll understand what I mean when you see these latest videos in a week or two--all the flooding. So for now I have no choice, it's stay the paved roads closest to the trail, and keep trekking east.

As the day wears on, so too, the weather. It's turning much colder, the wind now a steady 25 per, gusting to thirty, not a pleasant situation. It's another dead-of-winter day here in North Dakota. I cannot imagine how winter can continue sustaining itself like this, but here's another day of it. A blessing, though, for the folks here--the slower all this ice and snow melts, the less severe will be the flooding.

Gordon keeps close tabs on me all day, waiting patiently, making sure I turn at the right places. By six, with the cold wind really doing a job on me, I call it a day, another 25. I'm happy with that. Gordon collects me and we head for the little mom-n-pop motel in Lisbon. 100-200 deer along the valley road, an amazing number to see in a single day.

"Past and to come, seems best; things present, worse.

[Shakespeare]

Sunday--March 5, 2009
Trail Day--015
Trail Mile--51.7/427
Location--ND27, Sheyenne National Grasslands, east of Lisbon

Talked to a local during dinner last, at the Steak Out next our motel. His family runs cattle on the Grasslands--the NCT crosses nearby. He was very familiar with the trail. "No way to hike through there now," he remarked, "drifted snow, ice, flooding, too risky--you couldn't find the trail."

Oh my, so okay, way it looks now folks, North Dakota will be a total roadwalk. I did hike, oh maybe 100 yards of certified trail by the sign at Lake Sakakawea--that's it!

It's another winter day as we head out, more wind, more cold. But it's back to the tarmac to keep hammering east. I'm hiking around nine.

A very difficult day today, the wind, 25-30 per from the north, the cold, below freezing--again. Since beginning this trek there's not been a 24-hour cycle where the temperature's remained above freezing. In fact, for most of the days, the highs haven't gotten above freezing. Tends to wear on a fellow. My lips, my cheeks, badly chapped and sore.

Aw, more whining!

We break in Lisbon for lunch, then it's back to the cold, driving wind for another six hours.

I hang it up a little after five, 25 for the day, and we return to Lisbon. Forecast is for more of the same tomorrow.

"For fate has wove the thread of life with pain,
And twins ev'n from birth are Misery and Man!"

[Homer, Odyssey]

Monday--April 6, 2009
Trail Day--016
Trail Mile--25.0/452
Location--CR4, Colefax

A fine stay at Island Park Motel in Lisbon; thanks Theresa!

Breakfast is at Lisbon Cafe, downtown, where we enjoyed their great Sunday buffet last.

A little before ten, Gordon has me back on ND27 in the Sheyenne Grasslands. The sun is shining, but it will prove little benefit this day. We're starting out with 23 degrees, a north wind grinding across the ice at 25 per. Nope, the sun will be no help.

The two-mile jog north, from ND27 to CR4, is wicked. As I turn east again, the wind is relentless, gusting to well over 30, pushing me hard. My trekking poles are of little use as the wind whips them horizontally.

I can remember my first morning eastbound on ND200 near Grassy Range, Odyssey 2006, western North Dakota--the klatch at the cafe there--one fellow lamented, "It's too wet to plow, and too windy to load rocks." It's that kind of day here, my last full day (for now) in North Dakota.

And so, tomorrow I'll enter Minnesota, leaving this North Dakota winter behind. But for this NCT thru-hike, no way I can be finished with North Dakota. I've hammered some 350+ miles of tarmac, so for sure I've got the roadwalk done. But as for trail, those certified sections proudly built and maintained by the three North Dakota Chapters, NCTA, I've not set foot on any of them, save a bit of that short segment in Lake Sak SP. There was just no way to trek any of them.

And so the dilemma, which is certainly self-inflicted. I was sure told more than once, early-on, by folks who know, that I was starting this trek way too early. But, but, but--spring was coming along just fine, until the first blizzard hit, followed by the second. Anyway, how was I to know this spring would turn out to be the worst in recorded history for North Dakota? Well okay, so now what smart guy--who was so set on doing an eastbound thru-hike o'er the NCT? Hey/hey, the Nomad's got a plan, folks, that is if he can just hike into some decent weather soon, say before reaching Ely in a couple more weeks, then it'll all work out. All's needed is for summer to creep the least bit into fall, like winter has now invaded spring--and everything'll be fine. Late September, early October I'll have time to return, for the eight or ten days needed to backfill all the certified section in North Dakota--which I dearly wish to do.

It's a grueling day on the road today. The north wind is brutal. I manage to get to Colefax, the Outpost Bar, and on east to the Colefax Cafe, where we're permitted to park for the night.

Here are the certified section of North Country Trail in North Dakota:
1. Lake Sak SP -- 1.8
2. McCluskey Canal -- 73.6
3. Lonetree WMA -- 26.3
4. New Rockford Canal -- 40.3
5. Lake Ashtabula -- 25.6
6. Valley City -- 4.6
7. Ft. Ransom SP -- 2.5
8. Sheyenne Natl. Grasslands -- 25.0
Total certified trail, ND -- 200.0

"If all misfortunes were laid in one common heap

whence everyone must take an equal portion,

most people would be content to take their own and depart."

[Socrates]

Tuesday--April 7, 2009
Trail Day--017
Trail Mile--27.5/20/488
Location--West of Rothsay

Got a visit from the sheriff last night around two. He wasn't aware that we had permission to park in front of the cafe.

The morning klatch begins rolling in a little after six. We finally roll out around seven. Warm greetings from Becky, owner/cook/waitress/dishwasher, Colfax Cafe. Great breakfast, fine night's rest--thanks, Becky!

Today is shaping to be much better then yesterday, but that's not saying much. The sun is up again and just might warm things a bit. Little wind (thank you, Lord), temps in the high 20s. I'm hiking before nine.

Late morning I reach the Red River Bridge at Ft. Abercrombie and cross from North Dakota to Minnesota. The plains of North Dakota and the winter there are now behind me. Hopefully, here in Minnesota, spring will come soon.

A long, uneventful day hammering the highway. My legs seem to be coming back under me again, one more time, a true blessing. Each year, each odyssey, I'm a year older, so it's ever a concern. I have been suffering shin splints to a minor extent, some lower back pain, but otherwise I'm moving into this trek with no difficulty (save frostbite on my nose and cheeks, and totally windburned lips).

"A violent wind does not outlast the morning;

a squall of rain does not outlast the day.

Such is the course of nature.

And if nature cannot sustain her efforts long,

how much less can man!"

[Lao-Tzu]

Wednesday--April 8, 2009
Trail Day--018
Trail Mile--25.6/046/514
Location--CR24, East of Maplewood SP

Many truckers coming and going this morning. We're into the truckstop for breakfast at 7:30, to a packed house. I'm back hiking the road to Rothsay a little after eight. Dense fog, hoar frost on everything, again, a veritable wonderland--just so very cold.

The road east, out of Rothsay, is closed due to flooding. Locals direct us around. The terrain is changing rapidly now, from the plains, the prairie, to wooded, rolling hills. It's certainly a welcome change. There are actually places where the wind doesn't blow!

Fellow from Fargo's been following my journey, wanted to meet me. Made arrangements and he came down and spent the afternoon with us. Ragnar, a retired postal worker, kind fellow, a fun time.

There's a bit of designated trail in Maplewood SP. I hike over that way, but then go on past. Western Minnesota's had lots of snow, and most of it's still around. No way to hike the park trail; park roads aren't even plowed. Just keep hammerin' the roads, old man. Spring'll get here, sooner or later-later.

Legs, knees, feet, all manage the day okay. Back feels a bit weak and is complaining the least bit, but I'm very thankful for such remarkable endurance and strength--for sure a blessing.

Gordon hauls me into Vergas for supper. Ragnar joins us. We end up parked on a city street for the night, by Vergas Gas.

"Health is the thing that makes you feel that now is the best time of the year."

[Franklin Pierce Adams]

Thursday--April 9, 2009
Trail Day--019
Trail Mile--25.6/072/540
Location--North of Frazee

Weather forecast is for a carbon copy of yesterday, sun, high in the mid 40s, north wind 8-10. Compared to what's been dealt us so far, this is glorious weather.

And so does the day pretty much turn. Wind kicks a bit harder toward noon, but that's okay, as I take a short break while passing through Vergas for a sandwich and a bowl of soup.

Hank, the mayor of Frazee has been in touch, would like to meet us, do a short interview. He has a room for us at the motel in Frazee--oh yes, that'll work. Matt, NCTA Trail Coordinator for Minnesota has also contacted us and would like to spend some time this evening.

I get the 25 in a little before six. Gordon loads me and we head down to Frazee.

Mayor Hank stops by; very enthusiastic about the NCT. He's an active member. We have a great time. Matt reviews all my maps for the trail work that's been done in the Itasca State Forest. He's full of energy and enthusiasm too--about the future of the North Country Trail.  Great evening.

"To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness."

[Bertrand Russell]

Friday--April 10, 2009
Trail Day--020
Trail Mile--25.9/098/566
Location--Tamarac NWR

Kind, generous and caring folks in Frazee, Mayor Hank having set the example. A most quiet, peaceful night at Morningside Motel--plus breakfast at the Palace Cafe downtown, all compliments of Mayor Hank. Barbie, News Reporter, Frazee - Vergas Forum came with some questions for me. We talked about the blessings of good health, about life--and a little about the North Country Trail. Got our picture taken by the big turkey up on the hill, in the Lion's Club Park. Yup, great folks, neat town; thanks, Hank!

Talking with Matt last, found out we have many mutual friends. He and his wife hiked with both Sheltowee and Slider during their northbound AT trek in 1998. Also, Kentucky Greybeard, who Sheltowee, Slider and I hiked with for many days this past summer served as a ridgerunner along the AT. Matt was his "boss" at the time! Ah yes, it was great meeting Matt and sharing trail stories!

By the time we're finished getting our picture with the turkey--and Gordon has me back on the road, it's nearly ten. I've a 26 to hammer today, so gotta stay steady at it. By two we're at the Headquarters/Visitor's Center, Tamarac National Wildlife Refuge. I find it well worth the time to view the exhibits and learn about Tamarac. For example, I now know that the "Tamarac lies in the heart of one of the most diverse vegetative transition zones in North America, where northern hardwood, coniferous forests and the tall grass prairie converge." This diverse habitat supports a remarkable number of birds, over 250 species. Today I saw a magnificent pair of trumpeter swans, also a bald eagle.

Randy and Sheila at Tamarac Resort and Campground welcomed us in the evening.

"When a man can live tranquilly in the out-of-doors,
without fear of anything on earth or in space,

not because he is a savage, but because he is thoroughly civilized,

he has arrived through himself at the ultimate, that is to say the primal,

having rid himself of all that is useless and unserviceable."

[Juan Ramon Jiminez]

Saturday--April 11, 2009
Trail Day--021
Trail Mile--27.1/125/593
Location--Itasca SP

Not so cold last night but still below freezing. Good to be in the van, not on the ground--that'll come soon.

The roadwalk is interrupted today by a break for lunch at Elbow Lake. By early afternoon I reach the first certified section of trail in Minnesota. It's new, having been flagged and brushed out with no blazes up as yet. I head in, into much snow. Slow going for sure--two hours to cover under four miles. Doesn't take me long to get lost. I become confused at a woods road and snowmobile crossing. Not sure where the trail goes. End up bushwhacking a few tenths to get to the end of the section.

Gordon's waiting. I water up and head back in. More snow than dry trail. Well, actually, there isn't any dry trail. Where the trail is free of snow and slush ice, the tread is so sloppy that forward progress is fretfully slow--same as wading through the snow.

I bail out at Bad Medicine Lake Trail, hike it down to SR113 where Gordon is waiting patiently. There I call it a (slow) day.

Two eagle sightings, no photo opportunity but am sure one will present before I clear the Itasca, Paul Bunyan and the Chippewa.

We end the day at the Lobo Bar and Grill just outside the north entrance to Itasca SP. We're allowed to park out front for the night.

"A man who loses his dream is old,

one who has it is perennially young."

[Sigurd Olson]

Sunday--April 12, 2009, Easter
Trail Day--022
Trail Mile--00/125/593
Location--Itasca SP (Rustic Inn, Park Rapids)

Being Easter, also being the final day for Gordon to be with me, the decision is to take a zero.

Out from the Lobo, we head for Itasca SP, source of the headwaters--where the mighty Mississippi River begins as the outfall from Lake Itasca. A very quiet morning; we've got the whole park to ourselves. Even the Visitor's Center is closed. Just below the lake outfall, rangers have place a split log across the fledgling stream, the first bridge across the great river. Neat place; great photo and video ops.

From Itasca, we roll on down to Park Rapids, to the Rustic Inn, where we're given a hiker-trash rate for the night.

What a blessing, being invited to Easter dinner by Ray and Lynette, to their beautiful home situated on the shores of Bad Medicine Lake. We're taken in as family. Ray's mother, Mary, welcomes us, as do neighbors Gary, John and Karen.

Ray is the Laurentian Chapter contact for the NCTA, the fastest growing of all the NCTA chapters. We enjoy an absolutely memorable afternoon. Thanks dear new friends!

Evening now, and back at the motel, comes time to move out of the van, load my pack with things I need, and box up the rest to bounce on up the trail or send home. Not a pleasant chore, as Gordon will be leaving me tomorrow. He'd made a promise long ago to support Troll and his son, Oblivious, as the youngster sets out to become the youngest triple crowner. The fourteen-year-old has already hiked the AT and the PCT. Gordon and his father will be helping him take on the CDT this year. Good luck, son; my prayers for a safe, successful and joy-filled journey go with you.

It's ten before my pack is set with what I need, the boxed gear separated. Guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be to head out on my own. Sure gonna miss you Gordon!

"You will never do anything in this world without courage.

It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor."

[Aristotle]

Monday--April 13, 2009
Trail Day--023
Trail Mile--29.6/155/623
Location--Paul Bunyan SF, Near Lake George

We're both awake by seven, but neither of us is moving. This is gonna be a bummer day, no matter how we shake it--Gordon's leaving this morning after he puts me back on the trail in Itasca SP.

We manage to get loaded and moving--a bite for breakfast, a trip to the post office, then the grocery.

Gordon pulls off the road, by the gate, where the woodsroad leads back to the trail. Some last busy talk, a firm handshake, then I turn, lift my pack and go. I hear him pull away, and in a minute, that familiar salute, a couple beeps on the old horn, which always means "Have a great day."

More snow on the trail. Really makes the going tough, what with some weight in my pack for a change--probably somewhere around 12-15 pounds with food and water.

By the time I reach Lake Hernando DeSoto, I'm really pooped. Ray had mentioned, and I remember him saying, that this section past DeSoto Lake was the best of the trail in the Itasca. Doesn't take me long to realize he's right. A most remarkable setting, from a high point as it is--and no snow on the tread (for a change). Gives me a good lift, much needed.

Buy a little after five I break out of the woods by the south entrance to the park. From here I head north on MN71, toward Lake George.

At the Itasca Junction Store I stop to send Matt an email, as he would like to meet up with me the next day or so and do a little hiking with the old Nomad. By seven I've got half the miles to Lake George completed. So I bail off under the pine for the evening. Peanut butter sandwiches, and the rest of the turkey jerky Mayor Hank from Frazee gave me--not a bad meal at all.

Oh, part of the miles, reflected in the total for today, would have been the hike up to the headwaters of the Mississippi and back. Since Gordon drove me up there yesterday, I was able to hike past that detour.

Sure gonna miss Gordon not being here at the end of the day, sure gonna miss him. Ah, but I've long managed "...that cold, lonesome track," and I'll find contentment in that solitude once again.

"Be able to be alone.

Lose not the advantage of solitude, and the society of thyself."

[Sir Thomas Browne]

Tuesday--April 14, 2009
Trail Day--024
Trail Mile--25.4/180/653
Location--Paul Bunyan SF near MN64

Camp broke, pack up, haulin' by a little after seven. A cold morning. Snowing as I enter Lake George.

Head for the Lake George Cafe for breakfast. Great food, nice folks. Darrel from Walker, one of the Itasca Moraine members tracks me down. I'd sent an email to Matt from Itasca Junction last evening. Matt soon arrives, too. Also Jenny from Lakeland Public Television, Bemidji comes to get an interview for the evening news. After, I hike the road on down to where the trail leaves MN71. Jenny is there for more footage. Also awaiting my arrival is Judy Merritt from the Northwoods Press, in Nevis. In a few more minutes, Randy, from Learning-Information-News-Channel 14 arrives to do another TV interview. It's 11:30 before I'm able to get on the trail.

The Paul Bunyan has gotten much snow. Toward evening I'm having much difficulty. The trail is almost totally covered now, up to a foot or more in some places. I finally give it up and jump over on Steamboat Forest Road and hike it on down to MN64.

See many deer today, also tracks left by a turkey and a wolf. Oh, and what a great sign of spring--butterflies, lots and lots of butterflies!

"April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go.

[Christopher Morley]

Wednesday--April 15, 2009
Trail Day--025
Trail Mile--25.9/206/679
Location--Chippewa NF, near Teepee Lake

Hard frost last night. Tough getting out in it this morning. The nightly freeze has sure helped the snow situation though. I can walk right on top of it without post-holing, that is, until around nine-thirty.

By eleven I've beat the trail down, over to MN34. Thumb out, I've got a ride right away with John and Shirley, to downtown Walker, the Outdoorsman Cafe. The pulled pork sandwich special is so good I have two--and drain their coffee pot in the process. Struck up a conversation with Guy, the owner. He's Hiker Trash. Just returned from Arkansas where he hiked some of the Ozark Trail.

Lunch finished, I give Darrel a call. He lives in Walker. Yesterday he'd offered to help me if needed, and he's right here to haul me back to the trail. Time for another interview, with Darrel's friend, Jeanne, Park Rapids Enterprise. Phone interview this time--worked fine.

Darrel has me back on the trail by one. He'd asked me to give Jerry, President, Itasca Moraine Chapter, a call when I reached MN50. He lives down that way and is interested in hiking a bit with me. I give him a call, he comes out and we have a great time. As we hike along, I learn all about the nearby rivers, and a bit of history about the discovery of the Mississippi River headwaters.

Toward evening, the trail really gets mushy. With the last two day's snowmelt, there's a lot of flooding on the trail. I finally give it up and hike the remainder of the evening along Woodtick Trail Road. Meet some locals out for their evening walk, Mark and Liz. They give me directions. We have a fine chat about the carefree life, about following your dreams.

I Pitch for the evening near (south of) Teepee Lake.

"To believe in yourself and to follow your dreams,

to have goals in life and a drive to succeed,

and to surround yourself with the things and the people that make you happy

this is success."

[Sasha Azevedo]

Thursday--April 16, 2009
Trail Day--026
Trail Mile--30.5/237/710

Location--Chippewa NF, near CR4

A very cold morning. Hard to leave the warm sleeping bag to put on wet shoes. finally make it a little after seven.

A bright, sunny morning warms things quickly. The last few days I've been able to peel down to my tees and hike without gloves. Sure hope this weather holds, that'd be a real blessing

The snow is going, but it ain't gone. Certainly not the problem it had been, but there's still plenty on the trail to deal with.

Lots of grouse drumming today. Must have heard or seen near a hundred. Deer, too. All are out and moving. No sign of bear yet. Peepers are starting to sound off in the low areas (and the eastern Chippewa has plenty of low areas). With the snowmelt, most of my hiking today is through mud and water, not the most pleasant of conditions when doing a long-mileage day.

Sure tired by the time I reach MN4. There's a very fine high spot under the pine, with water nearby (water has been constantly nearby).

Tomorrow I'll hike the remaining section of certified trail on over to MN6, north of Remer.

A long, grueling day. Glad to be in my tent, content and warm in my sleeping bag. I'm not long for this world.

"Out beyond the lights of town lies a land of intense wonder and beauty and it is surprisingly easy for you to step into this world. It's like you've always lived here in the woods but just stepped out for a minute or two. Why? Because of your genetic memory. All of your ancestors were born here, lived here and died here. Welcome Home!" [Hugh SOLO Hickman]

Friday--April 17, 2009
Trail Day--027
Trail Mile--48.4/285/758

Location--Grand Rapids

A very mild night for a change temperature-wise. Much easier getting out and going. I'm hiking at seven. I've a little less than 11 miles of certified trail left to hike in Minnesota, on over to MN6 northeast of Remer. I'd planned on hiking the dead-end section, some ten-plus miles on past to the southeast, but Matt said to stop at MN6. Since the trail in Minnesota will soon (hopefully) turn northeast from Remer, to go into the Arrowhead and the Superior National Forest, no more work has been done southeast of Remer. And so, the very high mileage listed above for today. I didn't hike that section, but again, in order to stay with my cumulative mileages listed in the itinerary, I've included those miles. I'll make the adjustment at the end.

From my camp just west of CR4, I hike the certified trail on out, to break out on MN6 at 10:30. A few yards from the highway, I stop to get a photo of what I hope will be the last snow along this trail. Hopefully, by the time I reach the Keck Trail east of Ely, the snow will be all but gone.

And so, thanks Matt, NCTA Trail Coordinator for North Dakota and Minnesota, and all dear new NCTA friends, thanks so much for all your help!

Sure, I'll be hiking much more trail here in Minnesota, but it won't be North Country.

So much for the solitude of the north woods--I've a roadwalk on into Grand Rapids, 32 miles for the day. I'm totally beat by the time I reach town, my feet quite sore from walking 21 miles of road shoulder, with wet feet.

"Solitude, though it may be silent as light, is like light,

the mightiest of agencies;

for solitude is essential to man.

All men come into this world alone and leave it alone."

[Thomas De Quincey]

Saturday--April 18, 2009
Trail Day--028
Trail Mile--25.3/310/756
Location--MT, Near Nashwauk

Grand Rapids is THE "Trailtown." Very enjoyable stay. Reasonable motel rate, a "Hiker Trash" deal for sure. Restaurant right next. Ten blocks on down this morning, to downtown--grocery, drug store, post office right there handy. And by the turn to head up to the Mesabi Trail, a great mom-n-pop stop for breakfast. Oh yes, a fine community.

For the next three or four days I'll be hiking the Mesabi Trail, a paved rail/bike path that leads from Grand Rapids to Ely (not near finished all the way to Ely). It passes through the iron ore belt of Minnesota, the gob piles (that's what they call the huge mined wasteland in West Virginny)--and the pits (are the pits). The greater of the iron to make our ships, tanks and armament for WWII came from this region. But for the great "Land of Mesabi" we'd all be speaking German or Japanese today. Kind of sad passing through, certainly memory-jogging--all the old rusting remains of the mining era machinery scattered about, trees growing up through. Huge old steam shovels, miles of pipe, giant pumps, ore haulers (Diamond Reo). When was the last time you saw (a) Diamond Reo. Today, don't we think of Diamond Rio as more than one--and it ain't a truck! Don't think they haul rock, guess they just rock. But why they can't get the spelling right?

A cold, gloomy day, not unfitting. Three cyclists, all, that's it. By eight I'm just shy of the little berg of Nashwauk where I pull off in the pine, and call it a day.

"The only thing we can do is play on he one string we have,

and that is our attitude...

I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it."

[Charles Swindoll]

Sunday--April 19, 2009
Trail Day--029
Trail Mile--27.0/337/783
Location--MT, Near Buhl

Another cold and very gloomy day. My fingers are sticks before camp is struck. A short hike on into Nashwauk, to the 24/7 store right on the trail. Fingers wrap just fine around a steaming hot cup of coffee--oh yes! Egg biscuit, donut, more coffee and I'm good to go.

Find my first coin this trip. Afraid I was going to get skunked, but here it is, a skinned up penny, right on the trail. I'll save it, mail it home, to add to my second quart Mason jar of coins picked up along the trail.

More memories, more melancholy today, brought on by the moldering old hulks and masses of rusting machinery scattered about. I was born in '38, so I was old enough to remember the war. Not many of us born during those hard times, the clouds of war looming the horizon. It was sure no baby-boom era.

The war years were rough, not only for our troops and their families, especially for the families of those who never returned. My family sacrificed too. I well remember the rationing. I remember the mill, a little plastic coin--took ten to make a penny. The great faith, the profound positive attitude within my family and our little community, certainly helped us all cope. The church bells, all the churches around, ring loud and clear in my memory, that day the war was finally over.

It's dark when I arrive Buhl. I track down the little store and go straight to the deli. Hot, homemade calzone. That does the trick!

I pitch in the cold, dark woods just out of town.

"To be worth making at all a journey has to be made in the mind

as much as in the world of objects and dimensions."

[Ted Simon]

Monday--April 20, 2009
Trail Day--030
Trail Mile--27.8/365/811
Location--Lodge at Giants Ridge, MT, Biwabik

I wake early, break camp and get on the trail just after six. This will be my final day on the Mesabi Trail, as it is incomplete beyond Biwabik.

A cold, windy day with sleet and snow off and on in the afternoon. More small communities to pass, all seemingly passed up by time, Kinney, Mt. Iron, Gilbert. A little bustle in Virginia, but not much. The Iron Range has seen many a boom and bust. Mostly, the bust shows.

By nine after four I'm in Biwabik. I know the time exactly. The time on the clock in the post office--through the locked door. Yup, they closed at four. Had some cards to mail--later.

At Alden's Restaurant I meet Patti and Alden, the owners, and their son, Brian. They're closed but Patti takes me in, then stokes me with a steaming bowl of soup and a fine sandwich, their gift to boost this trek along. Thanks, friends!

It's five more miles up to Giants Ridge and the ski and golf facility there. I'd called them earlier and talked to Sue. They'll take me in--Hiker Trash rate. Beautiful facility. Sure great to get in out of it--the sleet and the wind.

"Challenges are what make life interesting;

overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."

[Joshua J. Marine]

Tuesday--April 21, 2009
Trail Day--031
Trail Mile--29.4/394/840
Location--Superior NF, near Burntside

Absolutely the finest accommodations at Giants Ridge Resort, friendly folks to boot. Reminds me, on a slightly smaller scale, of the glorious old lodge at East Glacier NP, huge timbers (actually whole trees), which rise vertically and cross-brace, support the massive structure. With the winter sports season over and the golf links not yet completely clear of snow--sure the off season--I have the place nearly to myself. The restaurant is closed but a fine continental breakfast has been set, so I "make do" with that, a few bowls of cereal, some fruit and muffins. At the front desk, I get a picture of Sue. She takes mine in front of the magnificent eagle carving that graces the hall. I could never have afforded a stay at Glacier (I did try), but the kind folks here at Giants Ridge Resort took me in. Thanks, Sue, thanks Jessica, for your thoughtful kindness; it's been one of the most memorable stop-overs for me, ever!

Sure no problem lingering. By the time I get my pack organized then stop a moment to thank Sue, it's 10:30. I've an easy, quiet hike on up Giants Ridge Road (the Mesabi Trail ends at the lodge) to MN21. From there it's a short hike over to Four Corners, a fine restaurant, at MN135, where I take lunch--hot ham sandwich, mashed spuds and gravy, chicken potpie soup (um-umm), all polished off with a full quarter section slice of cherry-rhubarb pie! I waddle out of the place and head on up toward Tower.

There has come up a persistent, stiff, cold wind today, out of the north. Yup, I'm trekking north.

I am much looking forward to reaching Ely tomorrow, home of Sigurd Olson, my favorite outdoor writer from the 20th Century. Sigurd had a cabin on Burntside Lake west of Ely that he named Listening Point. It is now on the National Register of Historic Places. I plan to hike by there.

To visit Listening Point, if I can't take a shortcut, will require an additional six- to eight-mile roadwalk, plus a backtrack the same distance. Problem with the shortcut: I'll have to cross private property, right up a driveway and past a house. I'd explored this possibility last winter, looking down from Google Earth. I made a copy of the aerial and brought it with me, just in case. I had shown the aerial to Matt, when we met a few weeks ago in Frazee. He said he had friends in Ely and would look into it. Well, would you believe, and this is just incredible, Matt knows the folks who own the property over which I'd like to shortcut! He's contacted Steve and Nancy and they've consented to let me hike across their place--amazing, just amazing!

And so, tomorrow, I'll take the shortcut to Listening Point. As for Sig, he wrote about many things, articles and short stories for the magazine, Field and Stream. He often mentioned "The Singing Wilderness." More specifically, he spoke with much emotion, most eloquently, about "The Pipes of Pan."

When I was young, early-on, I often heard the pipes. I never really understood. I knew it wasn't the wind in the pine, the gentle rill of the passing brook, the bugle of the elk, the call of the loon--it was none of those. It was a strange call, always faint, always far away. It was, more than anything, the lure of the wild, a far off beckoning--the call of the wilderness, from beyond the horizon. When with others, when I would hear the faint, far-off pipes, I would stop and ask my friends to listen. But alas, their reply was always the same--"that's just the wind in the trees; that's just the brook below." But it wasn't. It was the sound of the pipes--and only I heard them.

When I read Sig's writing, I was vindicated. I found that I was not the only person tuned in to the pipes. Thanks, Sig! Since reading your fascinating stories, I've learned the distinct relationship between listening and hearing! And, so, tomorrow, I will visit Listening Point.

By sunset I'm seven miles west of Sudan, well on my way to Listening Point--and Ely. I pull off in the pine, pitch for the night, and enjoy the whisper of the wind.

"In some men, the need for unbroken country, primitive conditions and intimate contact with the earth is a deeply rooted cancer gnawing forever at the illusion of contentment with things as they are. For months or years this hidden longing may go unnoticed and then, without warning, flare forth in an all consuming passion that will not bear denial. Perhaps it is the passing flock of geese in the spring, perhaps the sound of running water, or the smell of thawing earth that brings the transformation. Whatever it is, the need is more than can be borne with fortitude, and for the good of their families and friends, and their own particular restless souls, they head toward the last frontier and escape." [Sigurd Olson]

Wednesday--April 22, 2009
Trail Day--032
Trail Mile--04.3/398/844
Location--Ely

I pitched for the night last not 200 yards from a huge microwave tower--yet I've no signal. I just don't understand now these cell phones work!

It's a very cold morning and I have a fretful time getting out and going. Sure got a hitch in my gitty-up; just can't seem to work it out. The warm sun sure helps, but the wind is cold, cold.

On a ridge some distance west of Ely I finally pick up a signal. There's a message from Steve with directions on how to get across his property.

I'd set a waypoint for his driveway and am now heading for it. First a turn onto Wolf Lake Road, then the winding road around, easy enough. At Steve's driveway I turn to cross the bridge to his place, over the outfall from Burntside Lake. A trail leads behind his house some three-quarters of a mile to the road on Burntside, the site of Listening Point.

I don't know why I didn't fix a waypoint for Sig's cabin, but I didn't. There are numerous drives leading to homes and cabins on the lake, none marked, save the fire department IDs. Down by the lake, along one of the many drives, I chance to meet Chuck. Come to find he's the caretaker for Listening Point. Had I found the cabin right away, I wouldn't have met him, nor would I have had the opportunity to view the inside of Sig's cabin. Thank you, Lord, for the patience granted. Chuck gives me the tour. I get to see Sig's duck hunting canoe, his paddles, his snowshoes. Quite an emotional time. Chuck gets my picture standing by Sig's old chair, right next the fireplace. To me, very special. Thanks, Chuck!

By six I've hammered the roadwalk down, on into Ely, to the Canoe On Inn. Teresa takes pity on the old Nomad, and sets him up in a fine room (with a bathtub), at a true Hiker Trash rate. I'm in for two nights. Yup, gonna burn a day, let the old bones rest a bit, and get ready for THE wilderness, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. I'll enter that great stillness and solitude Friday.

"Wilderness should be sacred and quiet, just as the Indians felt in designing certain places as spirit lands where no one talked. I have written about the Kawashaway River country of 'no place between,' where the Indians always traveled quietly and spoke only in whispers...two of the greatest values of wilderness travel, solitude and silence." [Sigurd Olson]

Thursday--April 23, 2009
Trail Day--033
Trail Mile--00/398/844
Location--Ely

Sheridan is the main drag leading through Ely. Most of the businesses are located there. Of course, the post office is hid a couple blocks down a side street, but other than that, the town's easy enough to get around in. Great steak house at the top of the hill, right on Sheridan. Shot right up there last evening. Neat cafe for breakfast this morning, block down from the library, just off the main drag. Yup, Ely's a hiker town!

Piragis Northwoods Company is just down from Canoe On Inn. Piragis is the Steve I've been talking about, the fellow who let me cross his land. Big canoe outfitter, tours here and in Canada, the full operation. Fully-stocked store. Great folks all. I met most of them while talking with Steve this morning--except for Nancy, Steve's wife. Got my trekking poles repaired (thanks, Aaron!), and a snap of Steve and me, for their website, taken by Tim. Also got to meet and chat some with (the other) Steve, Delana, and Michelle. Steve, all at Piragis Northwoods Company, thanks for your kindness to this old man.

The remainder of the day is spent sorting my bounce box and getting it on to Two Harbors, my next mail drop. Also washed clothes, worked journal entries, stopped by the grocery store (right downtown), the library--and hit the steak house another lick.

A gloriously warm, no-wind, spring day.

"The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another.

The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month."

[Henry Van Dyke]

Friday--April 24, 2009
Trail Day--034
Trail Mile--23.6/422/868
Location--Kekekabic Trail, Superior NF, Drumstick Lake

I've had a very restful stay here in Ely, made new friends and have gotten prepared for the next segment of this hike, a trek through the Superior National Forest, the trails being the Kekekabic, the Border Route, and the Superior.

A stop at the little mom-n-pop for breakfast, a pass by the post office and I'm hiking east out of Ely. First stop is at the U. S. Forest Service Kawishiwi Ranger District offices, Superior National Forest on MN169. Here, also, at The International Wolf Center, are the offices for the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, where I'll obtain my permit to hike through the wilderness. Kevin is the West Zone Recreation Director. He takes time to explain the three distinct sections of the Kek, the westernmost clearcut, the central storm damaged, and the easternmost burnover. Thanks, Kevin, there will certainly be some challenging hiking ahead.

Indeed, I've been forewarned by all whom I've spoken with about the notoriety of the Kek, the destruction and devastation the trail has suffered over the years. Last fall, two hikers from Duluth got lost while attempting to hike the Kek. They were finally rescued after being reported two days overdue.

To best prepare for this challenge I've equipped myself with the latest and most comprehensive maps offered by McKenzie. Also, using my DeLorme software, backed up by Google Earth, last winter I painstakingly set waypoints for at least every mile along the route. Now, and after the long trek out Fernberg Road, then up Snowbank, I have the opportunity to check the accuracy of my first waypoint, which I've set here at the Kek Trailhead just off Snowbank Road. I find I've fixed the coordinates dead center in the parking lot; what a great relief! Now I can rely on my other points along, many of which I'll no doubt need.

At three I snap a picture of the trail entrance sign and plunge in. I say plunge because that is precisely what I must do. Two minutes and my feet are completely soaked and cold, a harbinger of what's to come. In a short while I enter the first clearcut described by Kevin, a waterlogged pick-up-sticks mess. Had these clearcuts not been flagged, I'd never have found my way. Between two of them I enter a "wet" area. A three-plank walkway has been built some 50 yards through the lowest part. The entire walkway is covered with 8-10 inches of snowmelt. I slow to a shuffle to keep from slipping and going in. The water is frigid and I lose feeling in my feet.

By late afternoon I'm past the clearcuts and into the western fringe of the storm damage, an indescribable maze of blowdowns. Root-wads, huge masses of roots, rocks and dirt comprise the landscape. Trees that haven't been blown completely down have their tops sheared off. And through this destruction and devastation winds the trail. It's slow going, over, under, around and through the blowdowns. Here the treadway is quite evident, easy enough to follow. With the open canopy, and a few years aging, underbrush has taken over in profusion. It's everywhere, even in the very middle of the trail. Save the fact that I'm back in snow again (oh yes, one to two feet at regular intervals), the trail otherwise submerged in snowmelt, I'm in here at the right time. For, once this tangle of brush leafs out, no way will it be possible to find the trail.

It's been a cold, clear day, but by dusk the clouds move in, it turns very cold--and the rain soon sets. Near Drumstick Lake I find a reasonably flat, rock-free spot to pitch. By the time I get settled and try (with no success) to get my feet warmed up, the snow has begun.

"The Superior National Forest was established on February 13, 1909 by President Theodore Roosevelt. One of the largest Forests in the national forest system, the Superior boasts a unique and rich legacy that has been largely influenced by its boreal forest ecosystem and glacially-carved landscape with myriad inter-connected waterways." [Superior National Forest Website]

Saturday--April 25, 2009
Trail Day--035
Trail Mile--21.3/443/889
Location--Kekekabic Trail, Superior NF, west of Howard Lake

Not an easy task getting out and moving when it's very cold (think I may have said this on other occasions), after struggling first thing with wet socks and shoes. A good dusting of snow throughout the night; the ground is white all around. More deep snow on the trail, as much as two feet in places--persistent now. Where the trail isn't inundated, the tread is likely submerged in slush ice and snowmelt. My feet are quickly 32 degrees again.

Through the Kekekabic Lake area I'm in the thick of the storm devastation. The going is incredibly slow, and the tread has become more faint. To stay on trail I must constantly look for axe or saw evidence. More often now, that's the only sign. In many places there is no tread. Also, today I am faced with some very scary stream fords, what with the snowmelt runoff at near full tilt. My feet get hardly a moment's rest from the ice cold water.

Time was, I'm sure, perhaps back in the 90s when Ed Talone hiked through here, this would have been most pleasant. But not anymore. I find little redeeming value, little enjoyment in hiking this trail, and I've been looking hard. But late afternoon comes the canyon of the Agamok, and the Agamok Bridge, which spans the narrow canyon between sheer rock walls. The roaring thunder of the mighty falls and rapids can be heard at a great distance. A quite impressive site I must say, what with the river running at near flood.

It's been a blessed clear, but cold, day. As the sun begins setting it turns bitter cold. I've entered the burnover now--in what's left of the blowdown area. The fire that consumed these woods was intense. Nothing much remains but rocks and char, little dirt. I must pitch directly on the trail to find a reasonably rock-free spot. It is cold. I am cold. My feet are very cold.

As soon as I entered this burnt area, the tread, faint as it was already, became very difficult to follow. Where I had been relying on axe and saw evidence, that is now very confusing. It is near impossible to tell if the ends of charred blowdowns were cut or if they just burned off--all are round on the end.

From the little I've seen this evening, I have a very strong hunch that tomorrow will be one of the most challenging days ever, anywhere, on any trail. My GPS has been my faithful and constant companion, showing the perfect way. On it I can hopefully continue to rely. I'll trust the Lord Almighty to the rest. I'm just too cold and exhausted to worry over it anymore tonight.

"The Boundary Waters was recognized for recreational opportunities in 1926, named the Superior Roadless Area in 1938, the BWCA in 1958, and federally designated under The Wilderness Act in 1964. It wasn't until October 21, 1978, The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness Act was established to provide specific guidance for managing the million plus acres of the Superior National Forest." [Superior National Forest Website]

Sunday--April 26, 2009
Trail Day--036
Trail Mile--25.5/469/915
Location--Border Route Trail, Superior NF, Heston's Lodge and Country Store

I am having a very fretful night. It is now barely pre-dawn. Everything I own is in some stage of WET. My sleeping bag is a 24-degree down bag. Despite my diligence, it's been impossible keeping it dry. As the dampness works it's way in, the warmth works its way out. What I have now is probably closer to a 40-degree bag. And to my dismay (and I know it is well below freezing), as I roll over, I find my socks and shoes frozen rock solid, right next to me here in my tent. So, to make matters even worse, and what I know I must do (but certainly don't want to do) is bring them in with me, into my cold, mushy sleeping bag. I quickly find that what little heat I'm able to generate is totally absorbed by my shoes and socks. I thrust my hands in my groin to try and keep them warm. It takes forever for my socks and shoes to limber up enough to put on. A strange thing: As I'm into accomplishing the dreaded task, my feet just don't seem to complain anymore.

The day dawns clear and bitter cold. The sun on the horizon (there isn't a thing out here to block it) brings some blessed warmth. I stand, turn, and direct my face to it, my black rain pants, black fleece jacket, black gloves, they soak it in. What an absolute blessing. It's a painfully slow process breaking camp with sticks-for-fingers, but I finally manage, and I'm out and into what I know will be a memorable, adventure-filled day.

East of Howard Lake, from here, where the trail might go is pretty much anybody's guess. It's a very agonizing (say--constant guessing) process, trying to convince myself that I'm really looking at a burned off blowdown nub in the middle of nowhere, not a sawed off one signifying trail.

To interrupt this frustration, and as the sun warms things the least bit, I take a break, empty my pack of all its belongings and hang everything on the brush around me to dry (no problem finding hangers).

As I repack my (two pounds lighter) gear, clouds loom the horizon. Used to, I'd wonder, when I saw clouds on the horizon, I'd wonder if they were coming my way. Really intelligent, eh? Okay, smart guy, if they weren't coming your way, then how did they get on the horizon to start with--duh! And so, not long, the sun says bye-bye and is gone. The day again turns very cold--and the rain comes once again.

I've my GPS in hand more than in pocket. Without it, without the aid of following my frequently set coordinates, their would be no way of traversing this no-man's-land. And that's exactly what this place is, a no-man's-land, total desolation, not a living thing, save the constant, annoying, clinging tangle of brush. Oh, I have seen repeated sign of deer, moose, and wolf, their tracks (and poop) in the snow and on the "trail" along--no bear sign yet (smart fellows). Where there is any tread to speak of, it's mostly track maintained by these dwellers of the woods, as they continue following the previously man-made path of least resistance. Tromping down the moose tracks has greatly aided me through the deepest of the snow, up to two feet in places. I just must set and adjust to a very long stride. This causes me to fall a lot, a LOT. Rocks under the snow, they constantly throw me off. In the process I manage to break both the lower and middle sections of my right trekking pole (here, moose, you try using them), and bung up my right knee.

It's really hard to say if I've gotten lost any given time today, or if I've even been off-track the least bit. Places like, say, above Seahorse Lake and by Chub River, more than not, there simply is no trail, an occasional, piddly two- or three-rock cairn, a scrap of flagging underfoot, or the guess at a blowdown sawcut--that's it. In these places, and as I search intently, there's nothing to be seen but brush, rocks and char, nothing else, no tread, certainly no evidence that man has ever set foot here. Yet, as I fix on my next waypoint, perhaps (for example), the 45-rod portage at Fay Lake, I read that I am .75 miles west of there at 38 degrees, which places me smack dab on top of the ridge north of Seahorse, which, at that moment, is exactly where my McKenzie map shows me to be! And there is no tread here, nothing, save the jumble of rock and blowdowns--utter "unspoiled" desolation.

The highlight of this day (ah, and does the Lord not uplift and provide) is hearing my first loon. And he/she is mine, as the marvelous bird soon spots me, lifts from the small patch of open water and flies gracefully to the top of a tall, blackened snag overlooking Bingshick Lake, from there to serenade me for the longest time. I stop, to just watch and listen, totally entranced. What a confusing call, one that constantly shifts from mournful to gleeful. Ah, is this not the true, undeniable call of the wild? What a great moment, what a wonderful uplifting moment here in this wilderness! Why is it we find that nature can be so unmerciful, so terribly cold and cruel at times? Yet, and at the same moment, she can be so fickle, so remarkably warm, gentle, and comforting! Ah yes folks, here is my payoff, here's my reward for enduring this day, this "trail," as Mother Nature now welcomes me to her bosom. Never mind the cold, forget the ice and snow, forget the flooded trail, forget the rocks and this charred, pitiful landscape, forget it all. What an amazing experience, what a spiritually rewarding and uplifting revelation, a brief glimpse into the eternal mystery of it all! Yes, this loon, for this magic moment--this loon is mine.

A few more waypoint fixes, a few more miles of staggering the puzzle and chaos--through the constant downpour, and I "emerge" at Gunflint Trail, the paved road to Grand Marais. It's five-twelve. I've put the Kekekabic behind me.

"Wilderness is more than lakes, rivers, and timber along the shores, more than fishing or just camping. It is the sense of the primeval, of space, solitude, silence and the eternal mystery...Life in the wilderness, especially when one is alone, is a continual contemplation and communion with God and Spirit regarding eternal values." [Sigurd Olson]

Monday--April 27, 2009
Trail Day--037
Trail Mile--00.0/469/915
Location--Border Route Trail, Superior NF, Heston's Lodge and Country Store

Heading toward Heston's last, as it grew later and later, I became concerned more and more that Barb and Greg would begin worrying about me. The BWCAW is a bad place to turn up missing (in), or late getting out of, especially when you've told folks to expect you. I had figured on reaching the lodge late morning, certainly by early afternoon. That's what I'd told Barb. What I didn't know at the time was what I'd be getting into--the lingering winter conditions in the wilderness. Barb did say there was still quite a bit of snow, but I shrugged that off. I knew it would be slow going, but I hadn't expected so much snow, along with such an incredible amount of flooding, the harsh, winter-like weather.

I'd corresponded with Barb on a number of occasions, early-on. Ed (with the great Border Route Trail folks) recommended I stop by Heston's on my way through, and so, my plans. I had called Barb from Ely last Thursday, the evening before departing for the Kek. I told her to look for me sometime early Sunday.

So, there I was yesterday, limping up the highway, in the cold, rainy gloom of dusk--worrying about them worrying.

Ah, but wouldn't you know, after half-an-hour, along came the first vehicle. It slowed, then stopped right by me. Down went the passenger window, there the lady's warm smile. "You okay? Need a ride somewhere?"she asked,"I'm Sue." I explained my situation, that I'd just come off the Kek and was headed for Heston's. "It's a long way over there."she replied. "Sure you don't want a ride? I'll take you." I thanked her for her kindness, then asked if she'd mind doing me the favor of calling Barb as soon as she got home, to let her know I was out of the wilderness and on my way to her place. "Yes."her reply. Then a final, glancing expression: ("You ought to take the ride, dummy.") and she was gone.

Sue was right, it was a fair distance to Heston's, the last place up the road, way back on Gunflint Lake. It was turning dark by the time I arrived; Barb was watching out the window for me--and was obviously much relieved.

She and Greg took me right in, sat me down next their fire. "We'll put you in Tamarack, the cabin next door. I'll go over and get a fire going for you."she said with a concerned look. "You stay there and get warm."

When she returned I asked when they'd be going to town again. "Probably no sooner than Tuesday afternoon."said Greg. I asked if they'd mind if I remained till then, to ride in--and they both said, "Yes."

So, here I am, resting in the little Cabin Tamarack, Heston's, one hiking stick down--and a bummed up knee.

I was unable to get to sleep until six this morning due to intense (hit your crazy bone kind of) pain in both my feet. As soon as I settled in here, I'd moved a chair in front of the fire, there to prop my feet. After an hour, the feeling began returning. That's when I finally realized why they hadn't complained yesterday morning--they were saving up for last night! It's late morning now, and the pain has finally relented. But does there remain a lingering, tingling feeling in all my toes. Looks like I may be dealing with some nerve damage.

So now, wise guy, what's the plan?

If I continue, if I go up on the ridge above Heston's here, to the Border Route Trail, the only difference as to conditions will be that I'm out of most of the blowdowns and the burnover, and I'll be hiking marked, well-maintained trail. There'll still be two feet of snow in places along, plus the ice-cold runoff and flooding. Folks, my feet can't take any more of this. I can't take any more of this. Okay, so now what?

Well, after much thought, seems the only way to salvage this trek is to skip some trail. Sure, I skipped trail in North Dakota, but at least I hiked through there. Another degradation, another step down in the plan now. More compromise in accomplishing a west-to-east thru-hike o'er the NCT. Well, it just ain't gonna happen. As to a hoped-for early spring, favorable hiking conditions--didn't happen. Rolled the dice--craps!

And so, I'll take the ride down to Grand Marais with Greg and Barb tomorrow. I'll have Dwinda overnight another trekking pole and my maps for Two Harbors, east--to Two Harbors. I'll hitch down there from Grand Marais--and continue my hike on east from Two Harbors. Come fall, after Lake Champlain finally shows up, I'll return and get the Border Route and the Superior trails hiked out. By then, folks up here who work the trails will have the Border Route groomed, and the damage to the Superior (there's been considerable damage to that trail due to an ice storm) will, hopefully, be cleaned up. Ah, but then there'll still be 200 miles of certified trail left to do in North Dakota! Patience, and a little more confidence, old man, isn't that what you need right now!

To set me in the cabin last, Barb put together a bag of canned goods, some fudge brownies, and a big square of homemade sourdough bread. Got my energy back up now and am feeling much better. She also gave me an Ace bandage to wrap my right knee. Then, this evening, she and Greg had me over for supper!

Delicious moose burgers, country fries, slaw, beans, more homemade bread--oh, and I got to meet Addie, Greg and Barb's lovely daughter. Takes after her mom. Also a great cook; scrumptious blueberry cobbler, hadn't she made, from their own berry stash!

A memorable evening visiting and chatting, as if this busy family had nothing else to do. Barb brought out a huge map, one that showed the progression of the Ham Lake Fire. She explained how it nearly encircled them, but spared this special place, this Heston's Lodge--that's been in the family since early last century.

Gracious, kind, and gentle folks; oh my, yes!

So I'll miss a couple days of hiking. So what? Go back and review your ditty about the mystery of all this foolishness, old man. You're forgetting what it's all about:

"It's the PEOPLE, the places, the pain and the trials.
It's the joy and the blessings that come with the miles.
It's a calling gone out to a fortunate few,
To wander the fringes of God's hazy blue."

[N. Nomad]

Tuesday--April 28, 2009
Trail Day--038
Trail Mile--280/749/1195
Location--Two Harbors

A wonderfully, warm, restful night in the little Tamarack Cabin at Heston's. The rack of firewood next the stove has been taking a major hit. Oh no, I'm not wasting it, but I've sure kept the woodstove pumping out the heat. The little cabin is cozy and very comfortable. When I told Greg I was flat going through his firewood, he said, "Burn it; that's what it's for." So, time now to load another stick!

The swelling in my right knee has started going down some. Keeping my feet up, not jolting and hammering through the snow and rocks, has been a big help. I'll be on it some this afternoon as I hitch from Grand Marais down to Two Harbors, but the effort won't compare to my recent ricocheting through the woods up here.

Time to get my pack together, straighten up the cabin. The remainder of the morning I work my journals and get caught up on way-behind correspondence.

Barb is ready to head for Grand Marais a little before two. Greg is not going, nor is Addie, so time for one of those unavoidable, sad, goodbye moments. Greg, Addie, thanks for your kindness; I've had a most memorable stay here at Heston's Lodge. Barb loads us and we're off to Grand Marais.

In an hour, we're in downtown Grand Marais. In an hour, comes again another no-fun time. Barb takes a couple more pictures, me by the lakefront--and then comes a good, solid hug. As I turn, I blubber out a promise to return to Heston's again.

Not much traffic on MN61, the state highway running along the Lake Superior North Shore. Everything's pretty much shut down yet, all the seasonal touristy places. I've my thumb out a half-hour or more between hitches, each one getting me down to the next little lakeside village. By dusk, I've managed it to Beaver Bay, to the Inn there, where the kind lady inkeep takes pity on the old Nomad, cuts him a Hiker Trash deal.

You may have noticed that in the stats for this day, I've posted 280 for the daily mileage. Ha, sure didn't do 280. Actually, didn't do any trail miles at all today. The 280 represents the combined mileage for the Border Route and the Superior Hiking Trail(s), both of which I am now skipping past due to unfavorable (say--unhikable) trail conditions. The Border Route is still buried in upwards of two feet of snow or is flooded with snowmelt, and the Superior is buried by treetops and blowdowns from a winter ice storm. The devastation from the ice storm could be seen yesterday and this morning as I hitched down. It is extensive and quite remarkable. Whole trees have either been broken entirely to the ground or their tops ripped completely off. And this destruction can be seen all the way from Lutsen to Two Harbors. One can only imagine what the trail looks like up on the ridge above. If maintenance crews are able to clear the trail by late summer it'll surely be an accomplishment. Maybe by fall, perhaps by then, conditions will again be favorable for a thru-hike o'er the Border Route and Superior Trail(s).

Anyway, the mileages--I'm posting these mileages in order to simplify stats-keeping (same reason as for North Dakota mileages). It'll all shake out in the end.

As I've mentioned, for now, this skipping around creates a compromising situation, my so-called NCT west/east thru-hike. But short of flat-out quitting, there's really nothing else I can do, so I'll move on east past these two trails and hike on. Hopefully, this journey will soon warm up and smooth out the least bit.

"April is a promise that May is bound to keep."

[Hal Borland]

Wednesday--April 29, 2009
Trail Day--039
Trail Mile--00.0/749/1195
Location--Two Harbors

I hate down (zero-mile) days like this; but there's nothing I can do but wait. Dwinda has overnighted me another right trekking pole, along with the maps I'll need to hike on into Wisconsin and Michigan. But overnight to Two Harbors is more like two days. So, though my bounce box is here, I gotta hang another day waiting for the box from home.

What a kind young lady at Lou's (Fish House) Motel, right on MN61. She listens patiently to my little short story (finances), and grants pity on the poor old hiker. Two Harbors is an oke-e-doke trail town. Five minute walk from the motel to the post office, also the library, less than five to the cafe. Kind, friendly, and helpful folks, all.

Another welcome (and needed) day to rest my right knee. Timing (if there's ever a good time to bung up your knee) is perfect. Anyway, it's nasty/rainy, windy, and cold, certainly a welcome change to be in, lookin' out!

I've time to sort my bounce box, drain the next door convenience store's coffee pot--and just flat-out (as in out flat) rest.

Hope to be back on the trail again tomorrow, headed to and through Duluth.

Dang, but don't I hope summer shows up soon.

"Long, stormy spring-time, wet, contentious April,

winter chilling the lap of very May;

but at length the season of summer does come."

[Thomas Carlyle]

Thursday--April 30, 2009
Trail Day--040
Trail Mile--22.3/749/1195
Location--MN61, Southwest of Lester Park, Duluth

You may notice that I'm doing a 22-mile day today. However, the cumulative mileage remains the same as for yesterday. Somehow, when preparing my itinerary, I failed to include this day from Two Harbors to Duluth. So, even though I hiked the 22, it appears as a zero-mile day. Again, it'll all shake out in the end, that is if I can remember all these changes.

Seems the weather up here just wants to stay mad, throwing tantrums and fits. Yesterday afternoon and evening the clouds kept churning until they worked themselves into a total frenzy, finally, with nowhere else to go but to ground. Fog, dense fog, and rain, heavy rain at times, in waves all night. The cold wind had its play as the waves of rain passed. What a blessing to be in and out of it, warm and dry.

Conditions are little better this morning, plenty of fog left over, but the wind has given it up for awhile, leaving a dismal, steady drizzle.

To the post office again. My care package from home has arrived--yippee! In it are my maps for the next section, a new right trekking pole, my o.t.c. meds, some cards and goodies--and my old tent. Yes, my old tent. Sorry, Christian, this new super lightweight Cuben fiber marvel you've constructed for me has some bugs that have just got to be worked out. Mainly, the fly just doesn't provide enough coverage to keep the elements (rain and snow) completely out.

By ten, I'm pack-shouldered and headed for Duluth. On the way out of town I stop at the Superior Hiking Trail Association headquarters, a neat old house right on MN61. The two ladies are very busy preparing for an upcoming meeting, and I am obviously distracting them from their work, so I don't tarry. I do find that my decision to hike on by the Superior Trail for now was certainly the right decision, as I learn that the damage from the ice storm is much worse than I'd originally been told.

River Road, the scenic route to Duluth is the way to go, and I turn there to follow the North Shore of Lake Superior. But all I see this day is fog (visibility to 50 yards at times) and rain. By four the fog finally burns off and I get to see Lake Superior for the first time today. The clear skies don't last long, though, as the wind, coming from the southwest (yes, I'm hiking southwest) comes up, gusting to 35 per, bringing in more overcast and threats of rain.

I reach Duluth in good order around six, a short (as my hiking days go) 22-miler--my right knee complaining only the least bit. Where River Road returns to the main highway at the Duluth city limits I had expected to find at least a convenience store, hopefully a little mom-n-pop cafe, but there is nothing, save a sign warning "Residential Area Next Three Miles." I stare at the sign in total disbelief. The main drag coming into Duluth from the north, and it's a residential street--for three miles! So, I trek on, as all I've in my pack to eat are some (care package) M&Ms and Milk Duds.

Yup, residential all right and sure enough a thousand houses, at least, semis whizzing past. At the end of the three miles, still no commercial district, as the street changes from passing by the dwellings of live residents to that of dead ones. You're familiar with these big city park-like cemeteries, ten-foot high medieval stone and wrought iron gates, walls, and pediments. This goes on for another two miles. So now, my short hiking day isn't so short anymore, and by the time I finally reach the commercial district, my right knee is definitely complaining.

The wind is still whipping, and it's turned cold. Along, and after another mile or so, I find a little motel, KFC right across, and I call it a day.

"A little suffering is good for the soul, it is true, but I have no desire to become a saint."

[L. Jean Marsch]

Friday--May 1, 2009
Trail Day--041
Trail Mile--24.9/774/1220
Location--Willard Munger Inn, near Magney Snively Park, Duluth

Well it's time to turn another page on the old calendar. In the process, and hopefully, there'll be a turn in the weather as well. I'm sure hopeful winter is behind me.

Through Duluth, the NCT (when the Arrowhead relocation is finally blessed by the powers that be) will probably follow the Superior Hiking "Trail" through/around town. That route is partially dirt tread and partially paved, a bicycle/rollerblade/jogging path. Definitely, as hikers/backpackers, we're the stepchildren through the paved part, a fine exercise path for the Duluth folks.

As to the why and how of this Duluth section, The Superior Hiking Trail, at least as to the history--as best I can figure--had to do with the considerable opposition (the mentality of our trail-building experts) to the proposed Arrowhead relocation--because of metro Duluth. "You can't take the trail up Superior, you'd have to go through Duluth," I'd guess was the argument.  Could never consider going straight through town, oh no. And so, did the fine folks of Duluth step right up to solve the problem!

Okay, where's this going (ramble, ramble)? Well folks, I really don't much care what our trail building experts think. As for me, and right now, I'm sitting in the Coney Island Diner having breakfast. The Coney Island Diner is smack in the middle of downtown Duluth, right on Superior Street, the main drag. The little, shoe-horned-in establishment is quite remarkable, certainly an historic place, established as it was in 1921 (make sure and check out the photos in a week or so). But again, I digress. Anyway, I'll hike most of the trail through/around Duluth, all the while keeping in mind that I'm on the NCT, not the SHT. That's an important distinction, as the NCT route can pretty much go anywhere my fancy happens to send it! And so, and please remember folks (you too Nimblewill), "It's the people, the places..." and the people don't all have to be four-legged ones, nor do all the places have to be (our trail experts say it's gotta be) "The Green Tunnel."

Had I stayed true to even the metro section, the Riverwalk, we'd have missed getting to know Leif Erickson and Jay Cooke (their bronze likenesses are downtown, not on the river), we'd have missed the opportunity to apply for a job as an "Ice Cream Server," we'd have never known there was a building just for we intrepids (called the Intrepid Building), we'd have missed the Whizzer motorbike in the display window, the most magnificent two-wheeled creation of all time, and danged if we wouldn't have missed getting "Booped" (as in Betty) at the Original Coney Island Diner! And though I've missed some, I'll still trek a good chunk of the Riverfront and the remainder of the "trail" about!

In the harbor I get some shots of the museum ship, the USCG Cutter, Sundew. Oh, and I learn that my old ship, the USCG Cutter Mackinaw, WAGB 83, is now also a museum ship, stationed in Mackinaw City, where I'll be passing. Can't wait to see her again!

I stay Superior, which turns to Grand, and I hike Grand on down to Willard Munger Inn, where I meet Innkeeper, Willard Munger, Jr., son of Willard Munger, namesake for one of the Duluth trails I'll be trekking tomorrow. Willard expressed genuine excitement to hear of my ramblings about--cut the old Nomad a deal; thanks Willard!

"Awake, thou wintry earth -
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair, vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness."

[Thomas Blackburn]

Saturday--May 2, 2009
Trail Day--042
Trail Mile--23.0/007/1259
Location--Saunders, WI

Willard, here at Willard Munger Inn, has offered to drive down the road and fetch me this evening, allowing another fine evenings stay. I take him up on that, a no-brainer. I'll get in most of my intended miles, and I can slackpack (leave a bunch of my stuff in the room).

Seven-thirty, Willard has the waffle iron hot, plenty of batter. I stoke up.

At eight-thirty, I head across the road to Willard's approach trail, a groomed path, which follows along the Duluth Zoo fence then up Kingsbury Creek to the Superior Hiking Trail near the top of the ridge. From here to Grand Portage at Jay Cooke State Park is around 15 miles. By the time I claim the ridge, I'm able to remove my jacket and gloves! A reasonably clear, reasonably warm day, and the trail is dry, no flooding or mud. What a change--for a change!

By noon, this little jaunt today is turned grand. I'm following well marked, well maintained trail, the very best so far this journey. Some ups and downs, some rocks, but some easy ridgeline hiking, some grass greening up, and the first flowers of spring, so dainty. Also of note, some fine overlooks, and two really impressive old (very old) stone bridges. I meet the grandson of one of the bridge builders, Mark, Spirit Mountain Rental Manager. And today, after over 1,000 miles on this trail, I chance to meet two other backpackers. They pass me on the ridge; we exchange greeting. Out for no more than an overnight, I'd say.

By a little before four, Willard sends Ryan out to lift me off the road. I've just crossed the St. Louis River Bridge into Wisconsin.

Oh, and don't I pray about this weather today, that it isn't just one spring step ahead before two winter steps back--again.

"The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off the frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.

[Robert Frost]

Sunday--May 3, 2009
Trail Day--043
Trail Mile--28.0/035/1287
Location--Hunter's Trail

Willard found he had other time commitments last, so he had Ryan, one of his friends, come fetch me. On the way back to the inn last, Ryan offered to haul me back out this morning. Easy enough decision; I give Ryan a call--at six-thirty. He accepts my offer for breakfast. Neat little mom-n-pop back toward town a ways. Great biscuits and gravy (and eggs); I'm tanked!

On the return to the Wisconsin line I get to know a bit about Ryan. He tells me about how his life back in Iowa had been chugging right along very nicely, for over six years. A loving wife, a beautiful son, nice house, mortgage paid way down. Then one day, out of the blue, the "d" word got dropped on him.

So now, Ryan is up here in Wisconsin, where he's spent time as a child, trying to sort it all out. And so, we talk about life after divorce, the "sharing" of a child, the whole tragic, heartbreaking time-out, right in the middle of life. And Ryan's in the middle of that time-out now,trying to sort it all out. Ryan, I'm glad we had the chance to talk about it some. Thanks for confiding, for letting me share my thoughts with you--during this toughest of times. Thanks, also, for letting me share this with my readers, that we might include you and your family in our prayers.

By eight, Ryan has me back on the road and I'm headed for South Superior. Not too many states I haven't trekked through with a backpack on. Counting Minnesota, I'll pick up three this trek, the second being Wisconsin. And to begin Wisconsin, it's a roadwalk today, and a beautiful day it is, cool and clear, no wind; I start without jacket or gloves--a first for this trek. In South Superior, I stop at the little grocery there for a few supplies, enough to get me on to Solon Springs some 50 miles from here.

The roadwalk continues, save a short section of certified trail through Pattison State Park. By one, I've hiked the trail there, past Little Manitou Falls. Mostly today the hike has been along busy state roads, but by two I turn onto a little-used gravel road cutting across to County Road A, which leads me to the narrow washed-out Hunter's Trail.

This has been a very long day, mostly hammering the hard, unyielding tarmac. My pitiful right knee remains very tender and swollen. I've kept it tightly wrapped with the Ace bandage given me by Barb. It's really no worse, but it's certainly no better. I know it will get better, as (just for this day) I have prayed for the strength and the will to endure--just for this day.

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."

[Mother Teresa]

Monday--May 4, 2009
Trail Day--044
Trail Mile--25.2/060/1312
Location--Solon Springs, Swanson's Motel, Cabins, and Campground

I had pulled off in the pines last, there to pitch on level, rock-free ground for a change. I was actually able to drive my tent stakes all the way down, usually an easy enough task, but not up till now, what with the frozen, rock-hard ground west of here.

The snow, I believe, is finally gone; I've seen none now for at least the past three days. And today I begin again without jacket or gloves. The trees and bushes all about are budding, pale yellows, light greens, the deep reds. And in the low-lying areas, the black flies are already starting. Oh yes, a sure sign of spring! However, the streams are still running near full tilt, very tannic here, from the forests about.

I will try to hike as much certified trail as I can here in Wisconsin. However, for the thru-hiker it's very problematic. The official route for the NCT through Wisconsin has been pretty much determined, and trail along that route has been constructed. Much, though, is not yet complete. Where the longer, uninterrupted sections have been finished, there is no problem. It's the orphaned (isolated sections) and dead-end sections that creates the dilemma. Getting to them, hiking them, may require trekking many extra miles, and include backtracking, just not practical for hikers who must continually cover the miles. To thru-hike the NCT in a single season absolutely means long-mile days, very long-mile days, day after day. In my case, somewhere around 180 25s. So, I'll trek what I can of the trail that's been certified; I'll do the best I can.

One of those dead-end segments I've been speaking about I decide to pass by today, the bit of certified trail south and west of Solon Springs. To hike into Solon Springs from there, when the trail is finally finished all the way through from Pattison State Park, will be both practical and easy for the thru-hiker. But to hike this section now would require a diversion of around 12 miles. Just not practical.

And so, I hike it on in to Solon Springs following County Road A, to close the gap between here and Pattison. I arrive Solon Springs a little after three.

Lovely town, friendly people. First stop, the bank. Helpful folks--I'm able to get some cash without having to pay the (usury) ATM fee. Then it's over to The Little Gift House for some postcards. Here I meet owners, Amy and Jan, and Jan's husband, Charlie. Jan is most inquisitive about my hike. I tell her that I am hiking the trail that passes through her town. Then I ask her if she knows the name of that trail. "Well, sure," she says, "It's the North Country National Scenic Trail." Floored me! Most folks never heard of it, but Jan and Charlie certainly know about it--they're members of the NCTA and are local trail maintainers!

When I mention that I'd like to spend the night in Solon Springs, but feared I couldn't afford it, Jan said, "That problem's solved. We own a motel here. You'll be our guest for the night." Amazing, and what a true blessing. My poor right knee will sure appreciate the rest!

Great little mom-n-pop cafe right next the bank. The grocery sits the other side of the bank. Post office and library right across the street. And all great folks, just great folks. Cathy at the post office gives me a plain box (one she'd been saving for just such an occasion) so I might lighten my pack by sending some winter items home. Oh yes, great trail town, Solon Springs.

In the evening, at my little cabin at Swanson's, stops by David, Bruel-St.Croix NCT Chapter contact. David gets me up to speed concerning his chapter's section of trail. He and his father maintain the trail I'll be hiking tomorrow. We enjoy a grand time.

Journal entries done--now write some cards.

"Above all, do not lose your desire to walk.

Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from illness.

I have walked myself into my best thoughts,

and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.

[Soren Kierkegaard]

Tuesday--May 5, 2009
Trail Day--045
Trail Mile--27.5/088/1340
Location--East of Erick Lake

A most memorable stay at Swanson's Cabins. Swanson's is another interesting place up here in the northwoods. As is Heston's on Gunflint Lake in Minnesota, Swanson's here in Solon Springs has been in the same family for three generations. Jan is the granddaughter to the builder of the original cabins, one of which I had the pleasure of staying in last. At breakfast this morning, which I've insisted they allow me to treat, Jan has brought some old black and white photos to show me. One is of her father and grandfather working, setting the homemade trusses for the three cabins. In that picture her father would have been in his early twenties. My cabin last, as I mentioned, one of the original, has been kept up and maintained over the years with much loving care. Just a charming old structure.

Oh yes, Solon Springs is a fabulous trail town! Everyone I met, all were most kind and caring. Thanks, Jan and Charlie, thanks Cathy; I will long remember your generosity and kindness to this old man.

Those of you who've followed my journal entries for any length of time, you know that as situations develop during any given odyssey, remarkable occurrences that "happen" with such regularity as to defy all odds, you know that long ago this old man simply gave up accepting or labeling them as mere happenstance, as coincidental. Rather, and do you also know, that with not the least reluctance or doubt, does he know each to be the result of Devine Intervention. And so, another--the "chance" meeting of Jan and Charlie.

A short stop for a couple things at the grocery and I'm on my way. At a little after 9:30 I turn to climb the Brule-St. Croix Portage, a route between/connecting the waters of the Great Lakes with those of the Mississippi, first discovered in 1680. The portage was used for centuries by Indians, voyageurs, explorers, missionaries, traders and pioneers. I find the path cut deep and well-worn. Along are large stones with bronze plaques naming just a few of the earlier voyageurs, some dating to the 18th Century.

Along the hike today I meet Cordell who's out collecting aquatic bugs. I stop a moment and we have a great chat.

On the ridge above the Bois Brule River the trail along offers some remarkable overlooks. I am on certified trail now. What a blessing hiking dry, well-marked trail for a change.

Today's hike is a cruise, along old logging roads, narrow-gage tram grades, and well-maintained trail (soft, grassy tread maintained with a lawnmower). By far, I am hiking the best groomed and marked trail so far; and the day is warm with just the least breeze. Whether I deserve this or not, I shall not ask!

Much of the trail this afternoon reminds me of the Ocala National Forest in Florida, rolling sand hills, stately longleaf pine and hardwood, and grasslands--where I am surprised by a very large, healthy red fox.

Around three, with a flicker of a bar on my cell phone, I give Marty a call. Marty lives in Ashland and is the Chequamegon Chapter contact for the NCTA. We'll try to get together tomorrow in Drummond. Our conversation is cut short by thunder and lightning, followed by a deluge. I manage to make it under the pine, there to don my poncho. I stay the protection of the pine until the worst of the storm passes, before venturing out in it. The rain continues steady the remainder of the day, save a short break, where the clouds separate to permit the sunshine--and to create the brightest rainbow I've ever photographed. I'm hiking in the Rainbow Lake Wilderness--coincidence, right!

Late evening, I hike on by Erick Lake (in the rain), and continue on till dark, when the rain finally relents, providing me the opportunity to pitch without getting all my gear soaking wet. A very, very long hiking day. Sure set up to hit Drummond early tomorrow!

"But beauty seen is never lost,
God's colors are all fast;
The glory of this [rainbow] heaven
Into my soul has passed."
[John Greenleaf Whittier]

Wednesday--May 6, 2009
Trail Day--046
Trail Mile--23.8/136/1364
Location--Chequamegon NF, Drummond

The rain, which continued off and on during the night, was gone this morning, the day dawning completely clear and warm! I'm able to start without my rain pants and with only my t-shirt. What a welcome change.

The Brule-St. Croix to Gaylord Nelson Portal hike was a cruise yesterday, old narrow-gauge tramways and closed logging roads. Oh yes, three-per all the way. This very forgiving tread continues again today; more easy going over relatively flat, well-groomed (and dry) trail.

One of the treats this day is Rainbow Lake Wilderness. Not a big area, but unique enough to be set aside as wilderness. A bit of rocky going, a fair number of blowdowns, but the trail around Rainbow Lake is most picturesque.

I'm shooting for Drummond today; no problem getting in early. First place I hit is the jiffy on the corner, Bear Country, run by Craig and his folks, Sharon and Earl. Sharon heads me down to the Rhino Bar for lunch, then it's a call to Connie at Chequamegon House B&B. Hey, I'm in!

I empty my pack on her back porch, everything out. The reason? Wood ticks. Not one or two, but more like 50--on me, on my gear, in my tent last. What an ordeal. Time after time I thought I'd rid myself of them, just to have one or five more show up. Finally, I did shed myself of most of them, but sleep proved fretfully, what with having to pull a bunch more off me during the night. So, don't want to infest this kind lady's house. She's cut the old Nomad an unbelievable deal. Oh yes, more wood ticks, but I think I've got them all now.

Early evening, shows up Robert, one of the local club members. He has their most current trail map. In the evening, Marty drives down from Ashland to take me out to dinner. We have a grand time.

Sure a blessing to get in and raise my feet up. The lingering swelling and tenderness in my right knee is becoming worrisome. I know that all it needs is rest to heal, but with 25-mile+ days, hard to rest it. Didn't know if I'd be able to hammer constant 25s. I'm sure enough into the process, but there's always that lingering doubt. This hike is finally beginning to get some rhythm going. To keep on keepin' on, I think it'll just take a fair amount of stick-to-it.

Late evening now, I hear much thunder. Thunderstorms are forecast for the night, but tomorrow is supposed to be another warm, clear one. Bring 'er on!

"Somebody said that it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That 'maybe it couldn't,' but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he tried."
[Edgar A. Guest]

Thursday--May 7, 2009
Trail Day--047
Trail Mile--28.4/164/1392
Location--Chequamegon NF, East of Beaver Lake Campground

Plenty of thunder racket last night, but if it ever did rain, I sure didn't hear it. I was snug and dry at the Chequamegon House in Drummond. Thanks, Connie! And thanks, all great folks (it was my pleasure to meet) in Drummond--Postmaster, sweet gal at Rhino, Sharon, Earl, Craig, Connie--and thank you, Randy, for the two Little Debbie cinnamon rolls you handed (gave) me while stocking the racks at Bear Country! Oh yes, my stay in Drummond was especially enjoyable. It certainly was a blessing to be able to elevate my feet for an extended time. My right knee sure looks and feels much better this morning.

I don't recall that I've said any more about my pitiful toes since Heston's. To a degree, all ten are still taking a nap. However, gradually, day-to-day the feeling is returning, though it is a very slow process. Seems, and I do expect, I'll suffer some permanent nerve damage. Hopefully though, it will be minimal. Ha, looking on the bright side--when I stub my toes (which is often), and from now on, it won't hurt nearly so bad!

I depart Drummond to a glorious, warm, wind-free morning as I head for the Porcupine Lake Wilderness. No mosquitoes yet, but in the low-lying areas the black flies are starting to swarm in profusion. Suits me; the bugs are sure a better deal than frostbite. Bring 'em on!

Don't think I've mentioned that I've had my feet operated on (again)--this past winter. The fourth toe both my feet had become deformed. If you followed along, my journal entries for Odyssey '08, a thru-hike up the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail, you'll recall the really tough time I had with my feet. My right fourth toe was the cause of being off-trail for ten days during that trek. Both those toes have been straightened out now. During this latest procedure I also had some leftover toenail remnants removed. Again, if you've followed this old man along since way back, then you'll know that ten years ago I had all ten of my toenails removed permanently, surgically. During Odyssey '98 I lost 14 toenails. Yup, you read it right--14! Anyway, considering the abuse I've put my feet through already this journey, they have really complained very little, as they're always up to the task of carrying me along.

The trail I'm hiking here today, in the Chequamegon, used to be called The North Country Trail. Now it's called The North Country Trail. Confused? Well, here's what happened: And so it is that this trail here in Wisconsin, in the Chequamegon, is a very old trail. Years ago, when it came to be, it was named The North Country Trail. Then, when this (now) very long trail was superimposed over it, the name of that old trail was chosen to represent the new North Country Trail National Scenic Trail, which runs from central North Dakota to upper state New York!

I clear the Porcupine Wilderness a little after two. A very enjoyable, very easy hike through. No blazing allowed in wilderness areas, but with the well-groomed tread, staying the trail was no problem. Like the Rainbow Lake Wilderness, the Porcupine is a small area, but it's good that it has been protected. I've found much enjoyment passing through both these wilderness areas. Hiking sure helps preserve one's sanity; hiking wilderness offers up a double-dose!

A good bit of the trail hiked today is maintained by Marty, the chairman of the Chequamegon Chapter NCTA. Just super trail; thanks for the fun day, Marty!

I'm headed now for Long Mile Lookout. Takes me awhile to get there--sure a long mile. Actually, it's over two!

I've some daylight left when I arrive Beaver Lake Campground, so I trek on, find some water, and pitch on the tip-top of a high knoll. A very long day.

"In wilderness is the preservation of our own sanity,

of our capacity to be good animals,

and of our ability to thrive as individuals, and as a species."

[Wallace Stegner]

Friday--May 8, 2009
Trail Day--048
Trail Mile--26.5/191/1419
Location--Mellen, Near Iron County Forest

Another crisp, clear morning. The sun wakes me; it's shining directly into my tent. I break camp and still have feeling left in my fingers. Days like this, to begin the day like this one has begun--I will never take such good fortune for granted, but will be forever thankful.

Spring is here in northern Wisconsin now, a literal explosion right before my eyes. All the trees are budding and leafing out, every shade of green, especially the most pale of greens. Ah, and so too, all the bushes in the understory, the ferns and flowers, more each day. Fiddleheads are unraveling, and I see for the first time the most dainty ladyslipper.

The hike today bumps and grinds along the least bit, some less than gentle inclines, a few rocks. I make very good time, however, reaching Mellen early afternoon.

The trail comes down the hill on Kornstead Road, the main drag from the west--directly to the main intersection. The NCT blue blazes lead me in, tacked to the power poles along. Just before the main intersection, local businesses have erected little signs to direct the hiker to all the village conveniences. First stop is The Deli.  On the menu, along with a wide variety of sandwiches and salads, what catches my eye is a burger by the name of Jean--yes, a Jeanburger. I look at the menu, to the lady, then back to the menu. "You must be Jean."I ask (comes out as a question). "What's this Jeanburger?" "Yes, I'm Jean," she replies, and with a most grand exclamation--"The Jeanburger is the best burger you'll ever eat." And so, it's the Jeanburger, fries, and a Coke. Yup, Jean's right. Danged if I can remember a bigger or better burger. Fills this old hiker up, and that's saying something!

Locals are having lunch now. Pete is sitting next, reading the paper and having coffee. We strike up a conversation. Next thing, I've got a ride up to the motel (half a mile away), followed by a lift clear up to Copper Falls State Park. "I'll go get my vehicle; it'll take me five minutes." Says Pete.

On the way to the motel I learn that Pete has just retired as Chief of Police here in Mellen, after 31 years! At the motel he introduces me to Mary, the owner. "Need a room for the hiker."he tells Mary. "You're in luck," she says, "Got one room left." And so, I'm in--and leave my pack, to slack-pack this next section of certified trail, a dead-end one, to Copper Falls State Park. By hauling me up to the falls, Pete saves me having to hike it both ways, an extra six miles. Remarkable, isn't it!

The certified trail around the park is just beautiful, the falls, nothing short of spectacular. I'll be sending this memory card to my Webmaster, CyWiz, tomorrow. Some pretty neat video footage. Check back; should be posted in a week or so.

Heading out of the park now, I stop a moment at the ranger's station by the entrance. Here I meet Jill, ranger at Copper Falls. Just wanted to let her know that her perfectly manicured trail (NCT) through the park is being hiked, by an NCT thru-hiker. We have a grand chat.

On the trail back, what goes climbing up a tree right ahead but a porcupine. Oh yes, think about it. Two days ago I hiked the Rainbow Lake Wilderness, then got a picture of a magnificent ROY G. BIV rainbow. Then came the hike through the Porcupine Lake Wilderness, followed today by a pretty neat picture of a porcupine!

Back in Mellen, I call The Daily Press in Ashland where Marty works. He'd told me his paper was interested in doing an interview, so I give them a call. All's set right away for Rick to come down, and by the time I try (TRY) downing a foot-long sub, again back at The Deli, then hoofing it up to the motel, Rick is waiting. He gets some pictures, asks some thought-provoking question, all the while, keeping his mini-recorder running. Rick is an outdoors guy, so we relate well; a fun interview.

Later, I spend a little time with Mary. She tells me how her husband, George, built the little Mellen Motel, with his own hands--50 years ago. Wow, what kind, friendly folks here in Mellen, and Mary's sure one of them!

Room's got a tub. Oh yes, just what this bones-sticking-out old hiker needs, a good hot soakin'. Finally, it's feet up--and I'm down for the count!

Beautiful trail. Beautiful people. Beautiful day.

"Looking for and enjoying beauty is a way to nourish the soul.

The universe is in the habit of making beauty...Beauty is everywhere."

[Matthew Fox]

Saturday--May 9, 2009
Trail Day--049
Trail Mile--28.6/220/1448
Location--Hurley

A steady drizzle caps the cold, gloomy morning as I head back down the hill to Mellen and the Penokee Mountain Deli & Sausage Co. (The place I've been calling "The Deli"). Pete and a few other locals are having breakfast. "Here comes that hiker that's on the front page of the paper."I hear as I open the door. Oh yes, Rick has done a fine job of it, color picture and all. He said my interview/his article would be in the paper this morning--sure enough. Thanks Rick; neat write-up, and the interview was fun!

Second cup of coffee and I'm pondering what to order for breakfast. Jean comes over, "Know what you want?" Got it figured out--potatoes, eggs up with laces, and wheat toast. Jean frowns, "Eggs with what?" she asks. I explain to both she and Dave. Dave cranks 'em out. Okay folks, got a picture of a perfect pair of fried eggs--with laces. Check the picture album next week or so to find out what in the world eggs up with laces might be!

A quick trip to the grocery. A celebrity here too. Everyone has to show me the paper. It's 8:30 now, so off to the post office. Oh yes, it's closed, but Sara unlocks for me so I can get a couple things in the mail (including the memory card with the eggs-with-laces picture).

Back to The Deli for a little more coffee before headin' down the road.

Hard saying farewell to so many new friends. Thanks Pete, thanks Mary and George, thanks Sara, and at The Deli, thanks Jean, Dave, Nathan, Tony, and Tom, thanks all!

My route today leads out of Mellen on SR-77. At Upson I turn and head up to a section of certified trail east of Snowcap, in the Penokee Mountains. I'm in the woods a little before three. Well marked trail and easy enough going for the first mile or so, then the tread soups up as the waves of rain shift from liquid to solids--in the form of sleet and snow.

As I trek east, the trail continues to deteriorate, many blowdowns plus much flooding. Seems I'm right back in it again, the dry tread, fair weather, all just a memory left to yesterday.

And wasn't it just yesterday I said "Spring is here in northern Wisconsin now, a literal explosion right before my eyes." Why, oh why, couldn't I heed what Robert Frost said:

"But if you so much as dare to speak,

a cloud comes over the sunlit arch,

And wind comes off the frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March."

I manage to make it through the certified section after much difficulty. I had set a number of waypoints; fortunate I did as my GPS becomes responsible for keeping me headed the right way. An ORV trail parallels the NCT and when the going gets so bad on the footpath I jump over to the motor one. Past the certified section, and hiking the temporary connector toward Hurley, I have considerable more difficulty--flooded trail, hit-and-miss blazing, no lack of blowdowns. Near the end of the woods-road stretch I enter and pass right through a big chunk of private (and heavily posted) property. By now the rain has let up, but it's turning very cold. Sure glad to hit the sidewalks of Hurley!

Fine little mom-n-pop motel right downtown. Minnie and Bernie take pity on the tired, wet, and cold old hiker, and welcome him in--true hiker trash rate! Warm room, oh yes. First chore, tick patrol.

Enduring days like this day takes a heap of mental toughness along with a ton of patience.

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight."

[Reggie White]

Sunday--May 10, 2009, Mother's Day
Trail Day--050
Trail Mile--26.9/027/1475
Location--Porcupine Mountains WSP, near the Presque Isle River

I was up until 1:30 this morning, pouring over my maps trying to figure out how many days I'll be dealing with between resupply.

The state line is only two blocks from the motel so I cross into Michigan first thing.

First cafe in Ironwood, I pull in, a little mom-n-pop place. Locals are in for breakfast. Bob takes a look at my maps and gets me squared away on what's ahead, as to possible resupply. Looks like I'll be heading for a little berg called Rockland, four days out. So, I'll need to plan for three nights in the woods.

Dang, Bosephus, now I understand why you pull your hat down and wear them big shades! Gotta get me a bigger hat, sure some darker shades. Tripping down the main drag here, heading for the grocery, pulls up this vehicle from the side street. Down goes the driver's window. Next I hear, "Hey mister, are you the Nimblewood Nomad; is that you Nimblewood?" I stop dead in my tracks, turn slowly, and just shake my head. Lone Wolf from Alaska, it is. Knows all about me, read my books, saw me in one of the hiking/backpacking videos. Oh my, what a great way to start this day. Lone Wolf is relocating here to the Ironwood area. All the best to you, dear new friend! Hope to see you somewhere again along the trail.

In the supermarket now. Another day-maker. Passing the ice cream case, I stop to take a really good shot of the typical freezer burned Ben & Gerry's (no one wants to pay that much for a pint of ice cream)!

Forecast for today is for overcast skies with rain off and on. Pretty much the usual forecast--good odds for the weatherman. But the day turns perfectly clear, cool, the least breeze; just perfect!

The hike today takes me down the Black River, past the falls and across the suspension bridge near the mouth of the river. Great view out and across Lake Superior. On the climb back up I pass Rainbow Falls. Quite impressive; all the falls, impressive.

The trail now heads east through the Porcupine Mountains WSP toward the Presque Isle River. A tough hike it is, mostly a bog hop along poorly maintained and marked trail. My evening campsite is near the river. A long, tough day. I am so thankful for the willpower to continue on.

"God created day and night for us so we need not wander without boundaries,

but may be able to see in every morning the goal of the evening ahead."

[Dietrich Bonhoeffer]

Monday--May 11, 2009
Trail Day--051
Trail Mile--23.2/050/1498
Location--Porcupine Mountains WSP, past Lily Pond Trail

I rise to another beautiful, sundrenched morning. On my way by eight.

My hike down the Presque Isle River is most rewarding. A very large river, many grand rapids and falls along. At the mouth of the river, another suspension bridge, another grand view out to the lake.

From here my map shows a six-mile hike along the shore of Lake Superior, to the mouth of the Little Carp River. However, as I trek along do I find the trail remaining distant from the shore; much a disappointment--and the bog hop continues, interspersed with many steep, mud-slick ravines.

As I mope my way along, at the Pinkerton Creek Trailhead, I chance to meet Kim and her son, Dillon. They're preparing to hike in to one of the many cabins by the lake. I had visited Speaker Cabin earlier and imagined what a great time it'd be to spend a day or so sometime. Mom's still sorting stuff. Dillon has his pack on, fishing rod in hand!

My goodness, just when I've seen the last of the snow, here's another small patch. And right next, the most dainty and colorful profusion of wildflowers in full bloom. Ha, winter and spring having it out. Spring is definitely winning now. Flowers up; snow down!

I'm finished early with my miles, my hike for today. However, I've been looking at the next section of trail, the first part of the hike tomorrow. Don't know, something about it makes me suspicious there'll be difficulty hiking it. A very long roadless section, the kind that's very difficult to maintain without overnight trips. So, my concern, as I've just passed poorly marked and maintained sections all easily reachable for maintenance from one end or the other in a day. Sections like this are often no more than connectors, joining one jewel to another, having little or no redeeming value, no special feature to hike in for otherwise. Not the place to take your scout kids. This looks like that kind of section. So, I decide to hike through as much of it as I can with the remainder of this day, and hope for the best on what's left tomorrow.

The section starts easy enough. Blazes everywhere. I'm able to see six or more from a single vantage at times. But the blazes soon begin thinning out, then dwindle to only a few every quarter-mile or so. The fellow with the blue paint lasted about a mile and a half. The one nailing up markers persisted a bit longer, perhaps around two miles before he headed back. So now I'm left with what's left of the old original blue plastic diamonds nailed up when the trail was built. As you might guess, many of them now lie on the ground or have simply disappeared. Much brush, many blowdowns to negotiate, and faint or no tread to help me along. Makes for painfully slow progress with much wandering and searching back and forth. Luckily, I've set waypoints along. Consulting my GPS helps greatly in keeping me on track.

Late evening now, a strange thing. A bunch of blazes close together, perhaps five or six within 50-75 feet. Then, at the edge of a ravine, the blazes and the trail simply disappear. I search in circles for nearly an hour before I'm back on track again. Dearly frustrating. Sure glad I decided to venture in here today, to get some of this behind me.

As I pick up trail again, does it then break out on a wide, dry woodsroad, to follow it along, then to cross the Big Iron River on a beautiful foot bridge.

Where a small brook cuts across I pitch beside the grassy road on the crest just beyond. It has been a challenging day, a good day, and I am better for it.

"With each step you take, you will grow stronger and stronger,

more and more skilled, more and more self confident and more and more successful."

[Mark Victor Hansen]

Tuesday--May 12, 2009
Trail Day--052
Trail Mile--26.0/076/1524
Location--Ottawa NF, beyond Cascade Falls

Yesterday proved a big leap, a most uplifting day as to my health, more specifically, as to the condition of my right knee. For, yesterday, a very long-mile day, I hiked entirely without the Ace bandage wrapped around my knee, the bandage, given me by Barb at Heston's back in Minnesota, many days and many, many miles ago. And this morning, I am suffering just the least lingering discomfort, and no edema in my lower leg. What a blessing!

The strong patter of raindrops on my tent wakes me from a sound sleep at five-thirty. No problem as I simply let the rain lull me back to sleep until seven-thirty. Comes then a break and I'm able to strike camp without getting everything soaked.

In this morning's gloom I will not be gloomy nor disheartened. Rather, I will pray to the Lord and be thankful for this day--because in Hurley, I had heard the forecast for the next few days, overcast with rain every single day. Yet, this is the first day that forecast has come even close. Yes, thank you, Lord! Having two warm, cloud-free days just past, the awareness of that good fortune has not been lost on me.

My hike this morning continues along the old woodsroad, a brush-free walk, a pleasant time. Then it's back into the depth of the forest for more mound hopping and bog dodging. Certainly, this trail will look much different in just a few more weeks as the saturation from the recent snowmelt is gone. No question, I am hiking this trail way early in the season, and the folks who volunteer their time to keep the trail open haven't come out yet. Yes, I'm way early, as I continue suffering the leftover days of winter.

As the morning wears on, this storm is having much trouble being serious, and by noon the sun prevails to burn off what remains.

After an hour or so of bog-dodging, and as the trail becomes more and more submerged, I finally give it up and wade on in, turning the bog-dodging to bog-bogging. The best way through is just--through.

These woods, this forest land is very marginal land. Mainly, it's poorly drained, even on the ridges are there bogs. And so, these forests are ours. For, once they were timbered off, nobody much wanted them.

By the time I reach MI64, the nasty morning has totally given it up and the blue skies have come to dominate. Across the road, I stop in a warm clearing, empty my pack and hang everything around to air and dry.

Pack loaded and shouldered again, I begin a steady mile-and-a-half pull up Bergland Hill, the longest and most steady climb so far this trek. From the vantage atop Bergland I can see the hills and valleys all around. This hike now is turning into my kind of hike, a trek through a smaller version of the southern Appalachians, the mountains I love.

Coming off Bergland and gawking around I catch a root with my right toe and go down. Just got my right knee mended and back in service, now I've banged up my left knee. Still got your Ace bandage if I need it Barb! Hope I don't. Looks like no more than a skinned up kneecap.

This section of trail I'm hiking now in the Ottawa has the reputation, the notoriety if you will, of being the toughest section along the entire North Country Trail. Indeed, there are plenty of ups and downs, much climbing. It is a rugged section. However, I'll reserve judgment on this issue, the difficulty of this hike today, until I've trekked the High Peaks of the Adirondacks--hopeful before the end of September.

Late evening I find a soft spot in the pine (there are a few pine trees scattered along) and I pitch (with the wood ticks) for the night.

"The best way out is always through."

[Robert Frost]

Wednesday--May 13, 2009
Trail Day--053
Trail Mile--22.0/098/1546
Location--Ottawa National Forest, Victoria (then on to Rockland)

The wind came up late last evening, driving angry low-slung clouds. I tried pitching out of it but that was impossible. I heard the wind continually whipping my tent fly all night, yet I slept quite well.

This morning, as I squint to see how the day might appear, all I see are black specks in front of my eyes. Ticks, lots of ticks, climbing and shuffling all over the outside of my no-seeum screen. Oh my, am I thankful for a tight tent with a full pan and a zip-close screen door. And there are still folks who prefer sleeping on the ground under a tarp--Yesh! In this type of circumstance I simply harken back to what Nessmuk said two centuries ago: "I go to the woods to smooth it, not to rough it; I get it rough enough at home." Not an easy task getting out and away--from the ticks. Did my best, but probably have a few hitch-hikers.

Today is primarily a resupply day, as I hike on past the historic old village of Victoria three more miles to Rockland.

What I know about Rockland is dated, over ten years old now, the info from Wes Boyd's Guide. His terse comment about Rockland, "Limited Supplies." So, entering the little village and turning down the main drag, do I meet Ken who's putting a new front on his shop. Friendly chap, as do I find all the folks of Rockland. I'd hoped for a little convenience where I might find a loaf of bread and some cheese, what I tell Ken. "The bar there, Henry's Never Inn, you can get a good meal at Henry's, and they rent out a room upstairs." says Ken. Hey, this day is shaping to be one fine day. In Henry's I meet Trish who recommends their homemade stuffed pepper soup and a patsy, an Upper Peninsula (Cornish) specialty. I go for both. Hot lunch down, and while draining her coffee pot, I learn there's a post office and a general store right up the street--and the room upstairs is available! Oh yes, a wonderful day. Ha, and I was holding out for bread and cheese!

Turns out, the room is actually an apartment, with a full living room, kitchen/dining, three bedrooms and a full bath--with a bathtub. Washer and dryer (complete with detergent) in the hall. Oh, and as I head up, Trish hands me a full unopened package of bacon, a half-dozen eggs, a container of butter, and a loaf of bread. "Breakfast comes with the room, you just gotta fix it yourself." explains Trish. No way I'll tell you what the old Nomad got all this for. Suffice to say that the folks here in Rockland are not only kind but very generous, oh yes, very generous!

Evening meal right back at Henry's, their Wednesday evening special, build your own pizza. Yup, back to Henry's!

Wonderful history behind Henry's. The fellow who built the old bar back in 1889--name Peter Gagnon. Fellow who owns and runs it now--name Henry Gagnon, great grandson to Pete! A 100+ year success story, and the folks who run the place, Henry and Salle, both are genuinely happy, joy-filled, humble, generous and most kind. I've photographed the back of Henry's Never Inn menu, where this interesting history plays out. When it's posted, take a minute and read it--fascinating.

Warm soak in the tub, pizza with everything I could load it with (think I hurt myself), clothes run through the washer and dryer (never before), and I'm feet up, working correspondence and journal entries.

Sure like these little bergs with "Limited Supplies."

"The common idea that success spoils people

by making them vain, egotistic, and self-complacent is erroneous,

on the contrary, it makes them for the most part,

humble tolerant, and kind."

[W. Somerset Maugham]

Thursday--May 14, 2009
Trail Day--054
Trail Mile--26.3/124/1572
Location--Ottawa NF, east of Bob Lake near FR-16

I could hear the rain off and on against my window all night. What a blessing to be snug and warm in the lovely apartment above at Henry's Never Inn. First thing this morning I turn the T.V. on to the weather channel. I really don't know why I even bother with this exercise anymore. Eternal optimism, I suppose. Cloudy, rainy, next four days. Only change--the south wind that was driving the angry low-slung clouds through at 25 per yesterday, temps in the low 60s, those clouds are being driven right back through out of the north at 30 per, temperature 40 degrees now, wind chill in the low 30s. Just a short distance from here, in copper county it's snowing again this morning. Perhaps those dainty yellow flowers I spoke of yesterday won't make it after all. Will winter ever be over!

As I depart Rockland on this cold, rainy morning I am very thankful to be of good spirit, fully tanked with energy and ready to go, thanks to my dear new friends in Rockland.

I'm hiking out with every stitch of clothing I have--on. The six-mile roadwalk down US45 completed, I'm back on trail heading east a little after eleven. This trail leads to O-Kun-De-Kun Falls and the suspension bridge over the Baltimore River. Then it's on to the Middle Fork, Ontonagon River, and another suspension bridge. These segments are most enjoyable. Continuing east, and in a few miles comes the East Branch of the Ontonagon, which I must ford, as there's no bridge there. Along this section, the trail deteriorates rapidly, and I'm once again into the not-so-much-fun of bog-hopping, and finally bog-bogging.

The Ontonagon Middle Fork was running swift, deep, and muddy. I expect the same of the East Fork. Fording the river may be avoided by taking a high water route roadwalk, a couple extra miles around. Not wishing to risk further injury to my feet, and anticipating a dangerous crossing, I decide that it's prudent to do the extra distance, and take the time to bypass the ford.

Once around, and where the road leads back south to the trail, I continue on east on Mud Creek Road. Considering the poor trail conditions, having to deal with them for so long, and now here again today--does not everyone have their limit? Well, I've reached mine. First it was the snow, two feet at times, along with the ice, then the slush ice. That was followed by frigid runoff and flooding. Now here in the Ottawa I've been faced with brush across the trail and countless blowdowns, along with the frustration of frequently losing my way. As the tread continued deteriorating today, mixed in, a new dimension--industrial mud, the camo-brown gumbo kind. You know the stuff, slick as ice. Cover it up with a topping of last fall's leaves and you've in for a skating good time! This mud lines the ravines along, the trail side-slabbing down through. I moved through each with certain caution, doing the best I could. On a particularly steep slope, I began sliding. Jabbing my right hiking stick in, I managed a purchase and hung on--until the lower section of my stick broke. Finally, I was able to grab some saplings and get stopped. And so folks, forgive me, but I'll be bypassing a few miles of certified trail today, and more than likely, a few more tomorrow too.

Late evening, crossing a little brook I take water for the night and pull off to pitch in the pine. Gonna' be another cold one for sure.

"Everything that I've got is just what I've got on."

[Amarillo by Morning, Terry Stafford and Paul Fraser]

Friday--May 15, 2009
Trail Day--055
Trail Mile--24.3/148/1596
Location--Copper County State Forest, then on to Covington

Michigan is on eastern time, including all of the U.P. except those counties farthest west next the Minnesota border. This shifted the clock for me a few days ago, so now I've an extra hour of daylight in the evening (doesn't get dark around here until almost ten). However, in the morning my biological clock still wakes me around six (central time), but it's already seven! Anyway, the sun's up, I'm up. A raw-cold morning, my fingers so many sticks by the time I'm packed up and ready to hike. My, oh my, should there come days of triple digit heat in Ohio, I will not complain.

Yesterday evening I heard, then saw, a pair of sandhill cranes. These are huge birds; no mistaking them. Their shrill call breaks the silence again this morning. A strangely mournful, yet beckoning call, much as that of the loon.

My trek concluded along a forest service road yesterday, so my hike begins here again this morning. In a short distance the trail crosses the road and I head back in. The hike quickly becomes a bog hop once more, then, as I tire of jumping and dodging, a bog-slog. Splash and slosh time again. The U.P. must have received an inordinate amount of snow this past winter, what with all this standing water and runoff. I'll continue this bog-slog for awhile, but if it doesn't give it up soon, I will! It doesn't. I do. Like Willie, I'm "On the Road Again."

Back in Rockland, at the little general store there, I bought a bag of (in the shell) sunflower seeds. I did the same thing last year. Finally threw them away out of frustration, near a full bag. There must be some technique, something I'm not picking up on here. Someone out there, could you please tell me how you manage to get through a bag of these things without growing old(er)!

Near the trail crossing to Sturgeon Falls, Doug pulls along in his green truck--and stops. He's USFS, out clearing the forest roads of brush and downed trees. "Hiking far?"is his greeting. I give him the full five minute pitch. Offers me a ham sandwich, a bottle of water, and a root beer. I take him up on the root beer. During our chat I get up to speed on what's happened recently here in the forest. Two feet of wet snow a couple weeks ago, that's what happened. Pulled down limbs, pushed over whole trees. It's finally all melted again. Aw, no wonder the sponge-mud, the brush and blowdowns, and the running-full-bore streams. Spring in the U.P., eh!

The trail passes close to the Sturgeon River Wilderness and I hike some of the trail next it. Much better tread now, on sand ridges and slopes, a little exercise for the legs again.

By late evening I've reached the little village of Covington. Doug had told me about a fine restaurant here. That's my destination. It's a busy place, a local favorite. While waiting my order, a lady comes to my table. "Are you the fellow hiking the North Country Trail?" she asks. Hard to believe the word's gotten around like this, but it has. To my question, "How do you know someone's on the NCT?" she replies, "Read about you in our local paper."

And so, I meet Catherine, one of the few but loyal members of the Peter Wolfe Chapter NCTA (Another coincidence, right!). We enjoy a very good chat till my supper arrives. Having sized me up, Catherine then asks where I'll be staying tonight. "In the woods, as usual." my reply. "I've an extra room at my place; you're welcome there if you like." A no-brainer; it's supposed to turn cold with more rain tonight, then snow in the morning. "I accept!" big smile on this old man's face!

It's a gentle but steady climb to Catherine's home, the highest point of land in the U.P., a lovely, well-kept old dairy farmstead. I help her carry some firewood in for the warming fire she soon has going. The howling wind delivers the rain soon enough, which lasts most the night. What a joy being out of it; such a blessing. We share a good time, the evening, about the trail--our lives.

Thank you so much, Catherine, for your trusting, caring nature (a seldom-seen-trait anymore), and for your kindness and generosity.

"The fragrance always stays in the hand that gives the rose."

[Hada Bejar]

Saturday--May 16, 2009
Trail Day--056
Trail Mile--24.9/173/1621
Location--East of Craig Lake SP

A quiet and most peaceful night at Catherine's lovely home. She has neighbors, but they're at a distance. In fact, she shares a common line with the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community, Ojibwe Tribe.

I'm up a little before seven, get caught up on my journal entries and a bit of correspondence while Catherine is preparing breakfast.

Believe it or not, the forecast is for cold and snow today. Sure enough, a little before eight the snow begins, a few flakes at first, then the wind starts driving it through. By nine it's snowing so hard that the trees, seen across the meadow through Catherine's picture window, appear as no more than a faint, gray shadow. The thermometer on her back porch reads 32 degrees. I'm in no hurry to get out in this. I relax and watch the whole unbelievable scene with total amazement. To sit, feet propped up by the wood stove is such a simple task. The call on this was for the snow to come early, as it has, and then to decrease. But by ten it's showing no sign of stopping. If I'm to get my miles in today I have got to get going. So, with much reluctance I tell Catherine we must leave. She drives me back down to the convenience store in Covington. That sad time again, time to bid farewell to a dear new friend I'll likely never see again. Thank you, Catherine, for trusting, for caring.

While draining the coffee pot, I shop supplies for four days: Hot dogs, cheese, bread, candy, sunflower seeds, the usual, around six pounds in all.

I'm on US41 heading east toward Nestoria, but not before noon. Going to be very difficult getting my miles in today, what with such a late departure, and the wind blowing a steady 25, gusting to 40, driving the continuing snow.

I'm in Nestoria by five, to the little bar there, a much needed break to get out of the snow, and to have a sandwich.

Just past Nestoria I turn north on an unimproved forest service road that leads to Craig Lake SP. At the lake I pick up a section of certified trail and am able to get in a couple miles in before calling it a day.

"Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams go,
Life is a barren field,
Frozen with snow."
[John Dryden]

Sunday--May 17, 2009
Trail Day--057
Trail Mile--22.8/196/1644
Location--West of Silver Lake Basin

I prepared, braced myself, for a really cold, difficult night. I was able to find a pine thicket just below the crown of the ridge, there to pitch tight under. I pulled my fly down completely around my tent in hopes of holding in the least bit of body warmth. But the deep cold, predicted to drop into the low 20s, never came. In fact, I had not even the least condensation to deal with. Slept snug and warm.

The sun rousts me out at seven-thirty. I have got to get my body-clock adjusted to this time change. The salvation, at least for now, is the extended daylight on the evening end, allowing me to do my long-mile days.

Yesterday was an absolute total bruiser. If you had told me that at 57 days out this trek, had you told me that I'd be dealing with temperatures hovering around freezing with winds driving heavy snow at 25-40 per, I never would have believed it. It is true--and that was yesterday. I am so blessed to be out here, so thankful for my health, my stamina, my resolve, for such vigor at my age--it is truly a blessing. Yes, yesterday was a very tough, trying day, but had I just been sitting the entire day, no purpose but to sit--I could not have endured, as so many folks my age must endure. And so today, tomorrow, these days will be better days, brighter days, warmer days, and I will be patient with their coming. And so, I rise, break camp, and set out to a beautiful, clear, mild, wind-free morning.

I had been told I would lose cell phone contact a short distance east of Craig Lake, so right away this morning I give Lorana a call. She's a member of the North Country Trail Hikers, Marquette Chapter, NCTA. Lorana is arranging a potluck get-together at her home for me Tuesday evening, and I wanted to let her know I'm on schedule. I am certainly anxious and excited to meet all the folks there.

Out of the park there's a roadwalk section. I'm grinding along, not paying attention, and miss a turn. Just as well, as my mistake brings the joy of meeting Pat and Sharon who are working outdoors at their weekend home on Lake Arfelin. They invite me to their cabin, the perfect little getaway we all dream of having one day. We have a grand time, and while chatting, I'm given a Coke, a sandwich, and some snacks. Pat then walks with me, shows me the way around the lake to the trail. Thanks, Pat and Sharon, thanks for your kindness!

Early afternoon I enter the McCormick Wilderness, an eight-mile, little-used section of trail totally devoid of blazes. Didn't take long before I was in a predicament--no trail. The trail simply vanishes before me, no visible tread, no signs a trail has ever been anywhere near here. Good time to consult my GPS, my next fixed waypoint. Heading there, lo-and-behold, does the trail appear again. On and on does this frustration continue. Oh, I should tell you that this is not neglect on the part of the Marquette folks. Oh no! In this wilderness no blazes are permitted. Oh yes, a tough predicament! Very slow progress, much looking and searching as I trip my way. Along, and from time-to-time, some dear soul has placed small cairns, a rock or two here, a rock or two there. These clues along with the aid of my trusty GPS, I weave my way. Guess I was never really lost. Kind of like Daniel Boone. I remember reading about Daniel being asked the question, had he ever gotten lost. (Quote ending this day)

I had hoped to make it through the bushwhack above Silver Lake Basin but with my predicament with the trail through the McCormick tract, I've just run out of time. It's been a very long day, and I am so tired.

"I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks."

[Daniel Boone]

Monday--May 18, 2009
Trail Day--058
Trail Mile--29.6/226/1674
Location--Escanaba River SF, Little Garlic Falls

The bushwhack section I'm heading into this morning runs for over a mile. It's been flagged but there's no tread built. Not so much guesswork here, but there are many blowdowns, much brush. Then, along with climbing around the rocks, progress is very slow. Coming out the east end I heave a grand sigh of relief as I come upon an old, abandoned hunt camp. My GPS indicates I've arrived at my destination, an unimproved woodsroad. I am disappointed to find no road in sight. All my waypoints, up to now, have all been accurate within a hundred feet or so, but this one doesn't seem right. I waste nearly an hour circling, searching for any sign of a road--nothing. At the camp lies an old cast-iron stove. No way this got here other than by road. What a dilemma. Back again to where my GPS originally announced my arrival, and looking ever-so-closely, under the countless blowdowns and accumulated brush, there's the faintest sign of a roadbed. I decide to follow it, but it soon disappears at the crown of the next ridge. Searching further, I come across year-old tracks from a four-wheeler. More doubt and frustration. I should be heading southeast, these tracks lead north. No other choice, I hang with them. Finally they turn east, then southeast.

My next waypoint, some three miles distant, indicates I'm at least headed in that general direction--through the worst continuous calf-deep quagmire I've ever had to negotiate. Finally, after nearly four hours from the time I entered the bushwhack, and no more than five miles distant, I emerge on improved road (culverts and a little scattered gravel).

This road widens and gets much better as it leads around the Dead River Storage Basin past many lovely vacation and weekend retreats. At Red Road I hike over to CR510, there another bushwhack over to the dirt/sand road that leads to Little Garlic Falls, where is located an orphaned section of certified trail. This bushwhack is also flagged, no tread constructed. And again, another slow, methodic traverse. I reach the road in good order and manage the hike on up to the falls just in time for the photo op before dark. A couple of fine campsites below the falls. I choose the one with a stack of firewood.

Certainly an adventure-filled day!

"Given the nature of life, there may be no security, but only adventure."

[Rachel Naomi Remen]

Tuesday--May 19, 2009
Trail Day--059
Trail Mile--21.5/269/1696
Location--Marquette

Much joy in having a fire, the very first this journey. I dried my shoes and socks and just sat and pondered the good that's come to me.

The rain returns again during the night, yet does it stir me little. I know it wise now to rig my fly, no matter the evening appearance of the sky. By seven-thirty, the rain has pretty much ended and I'm able to strike camp and be on my way. Not the most pleasant day, but it is not cold, a welcome change.

This is going to be a very exciting day as I reach an important point in this hike, Marquette. I'm almost half way across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan now, the most rugged, isolated sections of this trail behind me--yes a milestone for sure.

From Little Garlic Falls, certified trail leads over to, then south along the shoreline of Lake Superior. From Little Presque Isle Point down to Wetmore Landing I hike the most magnificent NCT section of trail yet. Rugged, rocky shore, isolated little islands, when struck by crashing waves, send spray fifty or more feet upward and in all directions. The roar created by the collision of waves on rock builds and builds, much as the percussions build within a symphony. And I am here, alone. For the most fleeting of moments, this grandeur, this power and wonder--it is mine, all mine to behold!

Entering Marquette, the trail follows along the Lakewalk, to the old ore hoppers by the shore--downtown. At the brewpub up Main Street on the hill, I call Lorana. In just moments, she is here to fetch me and whisk me away to her lovely home.

In the evening, and to Lorana's comes Tom and Liz, Denise, John and Ayleen, John and Marge, Cliff, Bev, Jim and Norma. Comes also Jan, Leah, Don, and later in the evening, Doug, another hiker heading for the trail. Each brought a covered dish. What a joyful time, the common thread joining each to each, the love of nature and the great outdoors. Many questions for the old hiker. It was much fun. Thank you, Lorana; thank you all for the memorable time!

"There is a love of wild nature in everybody,
An ancient mother-love ever showing itself whether recognized or no,
And however covered by cares and duties."

[Muir]

Wednesday--May 20, 2009
Trail Day--060
Trail Mile--00.0/269/1696
Location--Marquette

A hot bath to chase fragrances not so pleasant--and to soak my tired, weary body. Oh, the simple pleasures--Ah, but first to be happy! And today will I indulge myself in rest. Some duties and chores, but at my leisure. A trip to the Down Wind Outfitters, a stop by the post office, Marge now chauffeuring me around.

I have maps for another two weeks; I'm restocked on my over-the-counter meds. My clothes are clean. I'm clean! Did I mention being happy? Ah yes, I'm ready for this next stretch of trail along the NCT, to the Straits of Mackinac.

But today, what pure decadence, lounging at Lorana's!

"It's a heluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy."

[Lucille Ball]

Thursday--May 21, 2009
Trail Day--061
Trail Mile--25.0/294/1721
Location--Laughing Whitefish River (ravine, far side)

I'm up at six trying to round up all my "stuff." From the looks of it, you'd think I've moved in! Oh yes, I have made myself completely at home here at Lorena's--easy enough to do. She has such a beautiful home. It's one of those earth contact designs--but it really isn't, it's more an underground house, but it isn't that either. If you're driving down her street and look over, you'll see what looks like a vacant lot, crowned up in the middle with flowers growing on top. That "crowned up" is the roof of Lorana's house! Don't understand how a building can be most-like a cave, but have plenty of light. The skylight (dome) in her great room is the secret. Her home has been featured in numerous magazine articles and written up repeatedly by the local media.

These last two days have allowed me to rest up, get cleaned up, and get charged up--for the next segment to Pictured Rocks past Munising.

Outside now, and before loading to head back downtown, to where I interrupted my hike Tuesday, I climb up the hill to the top of Lorena's home and get some pictures--so y'all will believe me!

An interview has been arranged with Channel 6 T.V. here in Marquette. Heather, one of their reporters, is to meet me at Lakewalk, down from Main, at seven-thirty. Lorena no sooner has me there than Heather arrives. She gets her camera set, and we spend about ten minutes talking trail. Lorena stands by, then comes Marge to also provide moral support. Great questions; I am totally relaxed--a fun time. Thanks, Heather, you're certainly a pro at what you do!

A happy time, yet such a sad time, time, again, saying good-bye to dear new friends. It must be. But perhaps I'll see them again, Labor Day 2010, the one day a year the Big Mac Bridge is open to pedestrian traffic. I plan to be there, Good Lord willin', to hike the final five miles, thus completing my trek over all eight national scenic trails. Lorena, Marge, and many members from their chapter plan on doing the walk again. So, until then so long my friends.

Out of Marquette now, I turn to take a final picture of the fair city. I get that shot, which includes the storm that's rapidly approaching. I hurry across the highway to duck into the lobby of the motel there--just in time to miss the first driving wave. As the storm eases off, I head on down to the Michigan DOT Welcome Center. I manage to get there just in time to avoid the second wave. The driving rain lets up, but then sets in steady for the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon.

My poncho, an old reliable veteran, which is pushing 20,000 trail miles, has been leaking quite badly. Rain like this today would have soaked my pack and pretty much everything in it. But Lorana has treated the poncho with a waterproof spray, so my pack and me--we're dry!

Hiking an old rail grade, not where I should be, I pass a sculpture park, a quite remarkable place. Really beautiful (and quite amusing) work by Tom. He certainly has a talent. Some sculps tell a story, some challenge the imagination. Regardless, I found that they all make sense.

At Sand River I turn south to pick up a certified section of trail. It's a joy to be hiking blazed trail with established tread. No stumbling and wandering around in here. From Sigan Road over to Laughing Whitefish Falls ravine is a bumpy ride, but I have my 25 in well before sunset. A warming fire, such a luxury, dries my shoes and socks, and sets a glow to my heart. This has been a great day; I am a happy fellow and of good cheer!

"Some people never find it,
Some only pretend,
But I just want to live happily ever after...
Every now and then."
[Jimmy Buffett]

Friday--May 22, 2009
Trail Day--062
Trail Mile--27.4/321/1748
Location--Hiawatha NF, Valley Spur Trail, thence on to Munising

The call of the sandhill crane rousts me at six-thirty to a mild, cloud-free morning. I strike camp and am on trail by seven. I start out with my wind jacket, hood up, gloves and rain pants, but am able to strip to my hiking shorts and tee by ten.

Here I'm on connector and non-certified trail, but it is well marked and maintained. Thank you, North Country Trail Hikers of Marquette!

At ten-thirty I enter the Hiawatha National Forest, the Rock River Canyon Wilderness just south and west of where I'm hiking.

The trees are all leafing out now; white trillium are blooming and the fiddleheads have unfurled.

Believe I failed to mention a few days ago that in the Craig Lake/McCormick tract area, I saw a grey wolf. Interesting thing: He never saw me! Came onto the trail 20 yards ahead of me and never looked back--just loped along ahead till he was over the next pop and out of sight.

On the roadwalk down Sandstrom Road a fellow in a pickup stops. "You're on a long hike, aren't you?" he asks with a broad grin. "How can you tell?" my reply. "Saw you on the news this morning." his answer, as he wishes me well and is on his way. Just a short ways on down the road I run into Ken and his buddy. They're mushroom hunting. Ken comes out of the bushes. "I want to shake your hand." he says, "You're the hiking guy--saw you on the news. Anybody walking as far as you are, just want to shake their hand!" Word of my passing on this NCT has sure gotten around!

A long day, much roller-coaster tread, little pits and crowns, on and on. The trail follows the ravines, the very upper edges, for miles. Again, it is well marked, easy to follow.

Got my 25 in, again, with plenty of daylight to spare. I'm out of food, so it's hoof it on into Munising. An old motel, not so well-kept or so neat; and a fine restaurant right down the block. Grocery just across--what my budget demands. Doesn't take much to keep me happy; surely you know by now. Common situations, a few simple possessions. My pack with not so many "things" in it; a hot meal, a warm bed from time-to-time, that's the ticket.

"Earthly possessions dazzle our eyes

and delude us into thinking that they can provide security and freedom from anxiety.

Yet all the time they are the very source of anxiety."

[Dietrich Bonhoeffer]

Saturday--May 23, 2009
Trail Day--063
Trail Mile--25.1/346/1773
Location--Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Coves Campsite (assigned)

Late getting up, late getting going. An iffy day coming on, overcast, feels like rain.

First stop this morning (hopefully for breakfast) has got to be The Falling Rock Cafe. Lorana's friend, Nancy (also a member of North Country Trail Hikers) is the owner. About a six block hike; I'm there a little before nine. They open at nine! I kill a little time, get a cup of coffee across the street. By the time I'm back the open sign is on. As I enter, the lady greets me with a warm smile. "You Nancy?" I ask. "No," the lady replies, "I'm Charlotte, the Manager. Nancy probably won't be in this morning--we were looking for you yesterday afternoon." She points me toward the coffee. I didn't go downtown yesterday evening as I figured they'd have already closed. Looking at their hours a few moments ago--they would have been. "I knew Lorana would call and let you know I was on my way, sorry I didn't make it in time--tell Nancy I regret not meeting her."

Jim is sitting one of the tables, invites me over. Retired teacher from down below (a troll). Been coming up to his cabin here for over 30 years. Emily (an employee at Falling Rock) arrives, and she and Charlotte set to cranking out breakfast for Jim and me. When I go to pay, Charlotte tells me breakfast's on them. A young couple I'd spoken with before breakfast had already paid for my coffee. Dear, kind folks, thanks!

While I'm enjoying my lumberjack-sized breakfast, Charlotte calls John, a reporter for the Munising newspaper. He comes right over. Lots of questions--gotta get my picture with my pack and sticks.

It's well after ten by the time I finally head out of own. One more stop, the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore/Hiawatha National Forest Welcome Center. I must obtain a permit to overnight in Pictured Rocks. Busy weekend, hike-in campgrounds full. The two rangers huddle, then miraculously comes available a site 25 miles out at Coves. I'd mentioned that I'd like to camp at around 25 miles out. Thanks ladies!

I'm no sooner past Munising Falls and onto the Lakeshore Trail than the trail turns directly to the cliffs overlooking Lake Superior. What beautiful tread, well groomed and maintained. Folks have told me this hike along the Lakeshore would be one of the highlights of this journey. Sure starting out with the makings for it. And the day has turned blue-perfect, mild, no wind--just perfect.

Clicking along now, comes Miner's Castle, a natural rock formation eroded over the eons, standing the shore. Lots of folks about here--Memorial Day weekend.

The trail works inland from time-to-time, always to return to a strategic overlook vista. Lots of pictures; lots of remarkable scenery. Grand Portal is another beautiful cliff formation. When you see the pictures, the videos, you'll recognize it right away.

Gotta hammer to get my 25 in before dark. I make Coves Campsite with little time to spare, find an unclaimed site, pitch, and call it a day.

"The sandstone cliffs tower abruptly above Lake Superior, with strange formations of caves, castles, chapels, sails and battleships. Water and minerals paint bright pictures on the cliffs, stimulating the imagination. Sand dunes at the other end of the park sweep even higher against the sky, with a promise of distant vistas from their crests. Between the cliffs and the dunes, wide sandy beaches stretch for miles along Lake Superior, with waves constantly washing rows of bright pebbles." [Olive M. Anderson]

Sunday--May 24, 2009
Trail Day--064
Trail Mile--25.8/372/1799
Location--Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Grand Sable Lake, thence on to Grand Marais

Slept soundly the night. Daylight, I'm up. Looks to be the makings for another super hiking day; what a blessing to have fair weather to enjoy Pictured Rocks. Well now, this hike is starting to come around!

Lots of loose, sandy tread first thing. "So, old man, if you gotta hike the loose sand, why not go down and hike it on the beach!" Fair enough, and soon comes the perfect opportunity to do just that--between Pine Bluff and Seven Mile Creek. In the quote by Olive, closing out the day yesterday, she remarked about the incredible expanse, the miles and miles of pristine beach along Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore--and she talked about the millions of beautiful pebbles constantly being washed and tumbled.

By the wave's edge I find the sand hard-packed and easy to hike. As I look to the pinpoint-of-beach west, then turn and look to the pinpoint-of-beach east, I see legion upon legion of waves arriving the shore. And underfoot, sand and more sand--and pebbles. No one else is down here, only me and a few gulls. And so, is this spellbinding place not ours! Yes, for this short flicker in time, this beach, this seemingly endless stretch of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, it's ours, all ours!

Ah, and the colorful pebbles, I pick up a red one, only to immediately find a finer red one. I pick up a white one, an amber one, only to repeat the acquiring and discarding over and over again. A completely joyful, captivating time as I stroll along, not a care.

Up from the beach and on the trail again, I arrive Au Sable Light. Again I am alone. No rangers, no visitors, no one here but me. Upon first seeing the light, the buildings, I stop abruptly. I become totally overwhelmed. A flood of memories descends. I drop my pack, find a spot, and just sit and stare. Thunder Bay Island Lighthouse, the lighthouse on Lake Huron where I was stationed over 50 years ago now, that lighthouse, those buildings were much as these. Great memories, what great memories. All these old lights were decommissioned years ago. Some are being saved, as this one. There's a preservation effort underway to save the old light on Thunder Bay Island too. I must return there, some day.

From Au Sable Lighthouse, the trail climbs to a place along the shore called Log Slide. Here are dunes, the Grand Sable Banks, which Olive also spoke of so eloquently. An amazing mountain of sand. Information markers explain the dunes, how they came to be. I get pictures. Perhaps later I'll try to figure it all out.

Right now, got my sights set on Grand Marais. The kind lady ranger at Grand Sable Visitor Center tells me about the little village, complete with an old (still in service) hotel, and about some good places to eat. Yup, I'm headed there pronto.

25(+) done for the day, I'm done for the day! Neat village, Grand Marais. Fine old hotel (leans east). Hiker trash rate for the old Nomad. Penne pasta drowned in a specially concocted (vodka) sauce served up at Sportsman's.

Don't you know, day by day, little by little, this hike is coming around!

"...many things which cannot be overcome when they are together,

yield themselves up when taken little by little."

[Plutarch]

Monday--May 25, 2009, Memorial Day
Trail Day--065
Trail Mile--26.5/399/1826
Location--Well past Muskallonge Lake SP

At Bayshore Market yesterday afternoon I met Diana, one of the store owners and a volunteer who helps maintain trail here. She filled me in on what to expect as I trek east. Back again this morning, the klatch is gathered. The elder, Frank, who is 80, still builds boats, been building them all his life. We commend each other on still having a passion for life--at our age.

Another great trail town for old hiker trash like me. The Superior Hotel is a throwback, fixed as it is in time. Rooms upstairs, down the hall, left and right. Share a bath at the end of the hall. Got a soft spot in my heart for old places like the Superior. Brings back memories of my first thru-hike up the Appalachian Trail. Stayed in Duncannon, Pennsylvania at a similar old place called the Doyle Hotel, near the halfway point of that hike. Not that far along this trek. Just a pleasant happening.

The beginning of a fine hiking day as I depart Grand Marais. The hike rolls along, a roadwalk to begin with--an easy, carefree day. Shortly comes this SUV, camper in tow. It slows, then stops. Exclaims the lady passenger, "You're Eb Eberhart, the long-distance hiker, aren't you! Another person who'd seen the TV-6 interview. She and her husband dream of someday hiking the Appalachian Trail. I recite my "One of These Days" ditty for them, then hand them my card. Thanks for stopping folks; and thanks for giving me such great energy!

Past the mouth of Blind Sucker River, along the Lake Superior shore, there's miles of uninterrupted beach.

Along this section, the trail tries making up its mind whether to go the beach or to go the road (an endearing road name--Coastguard Rd.) as it wanders back and forth. After getting lost, then trespassing, and finally knocking on a fellow's door to get directions, I decide to stay the sandy, pebbly beach. This I do for miles, making remarkably good time. Late evening, as the sound of the crashing waves starts getting to me, I pull up just short of Two Hearted River, to pitch just back in the pine directly on the shore of Lake Superior. I set camp, get a warming fire going, then enjoy a grand, memorable sunset.

On this Memorial Day--
"...I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free, and I won't forget the men who died, who gave that right to me and I'll proudly stand next to him to defend her still today, 'cuz there ain't no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA." [Lee Greenwood]

Tuesday--May 26, 2009
Trail Day--066
Trail Mile--24.2/423/1850
Location--Past Lake Superior SF, Parcell Lakes

I leave the beach and hike the trail this morning as it undulates up and down, back and forth. At Two Hearts River I cross on a beautiful suspension bridge. The view of the river, where it enters Lake Superior, is a remarkable sight to see. Fine campground just across.

Hiking the beach yesterday got me way down the trail. I pass Parcell Lakes late morning, my destination for today, bound for Tahquamenon Falls State Park. The land now encompassing the park was described by Edwin Way Teale, Journey Into Summer: "The thousand square miles of this tangled wilderness occupy a shallow bowl bounded by a tableland of sandstone on the north. Draining this bowl is the brown Tahquamenon, the Dark River or Golden River of Hiawatha."

This area, the Tahquamenon, indeed, the entire area that makes up the broad-reaching Hiawatha NF was visited often by Longfellow. And so, the forest's name, and the river's (other) name, as described by Teale.

Both the Upper and the Lower Falls are a natural wonder. My pictures and videos describe them better than words ever could. Make sure and to remember to view them. I'll be getting the memory card off to CyWiz, my Webmaster, tomorrow, so she should have them up soon.

The day began grand enough, not a cloud nor the least breeze, but by late morning a cold wind comes up, driving the all-too-familiar low-slung clouds. Sure enough, soon comes the rain, just a drizzle for starters--followed by much more serious stuff. By the time I reach Camp 33, the Tahquamenon Falls Brewery (where they've a pot of steaming hot coffee), I'm tired, wet, and cold. I linger quite awhile, have a pasty, with lots of gravy, and drain their coffee pot.

No break in the rain; I head out for the Lower Falls anyway. A bit gloomy, but I manage more great pictures and videos.

From Lower Falls, I head for Paradise, a little village with "Limited Services." I'll miss a bit of certified trail in the process, but I've sure hiked the most spectacular section of it here today. On MI-123, and in a short time I arrive Tahquamenon General Store. I head in to get some relief from the rain. The kind folks running the store permit me to drop all my wet gear, coffee-up (free), and to just rest and sit it out.

A break in the steady rain comes in about an hour. I shoulder my pack, don my poncho, and hit the road again. Again, in no time, comes the cold rain. After a couple of miles, and as the day really darkens and the rain keeps hammering me, I pass a small community of vacation/weekend retreats. One really catches my eye--neat two-story cabin (no signs posted) with an outbuilding that has a woodshed lean-to. I head over, to find a completely dry area, maybe 10x10, protected by the building leaned-to, and stacks of firewood two other sides. Perfect; this is home! In no time I've got my tent set, mattress inflated, and I'm in my sleeping bag, warm and dry.

"Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in God and Nature,
Who believe that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings
For the good they comprehend not,
That the feeble hands and helpless,
Groping blindly in the darkness
And are lifted up and strengthened;-
Listen to this simple story,
To this song of Hiawatha!
[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]

Wednesday--May 27, 2009
Trail Day--067
Trail Mile--26.2/449/1876
Location--Beyond Tahquamenon Falls SP, Tahqua Trail (bypassed), thence on to Paradise

The rain stayed steady the entire night, but not a leak anywhere in the lean-to roof, the stacked firewood protecting me on the sides. I'd hung my wet poncho, soggy wind jacket, and soaked rain pants on nails around, and this morning they're reasonably dry.

In the continued protection of the lean-to I strike camp and get ready to head back out into it. The day begins cold, the rain steady. I've got nine miles to hammer to get on into Paradise. I manage by eleven, but arrive tired, wet, and cold. At the Paradise Market I meet Jo Ann. For a place to stay she sends me to see Bill and Linda at Curley's Motel. "They're outdoor folks, know the trail." she says. So over to Curley's I go. A very warm welcome by Bill. I introduce myself, tell him my story. "Wait a minute; let me get Linda," he says. Soon comes Linda. "We can give you a very special rate; just fill out the registration card." Kind smile. I fill out the card, then go for my Ziploc wallet. Linda hands me the room key, shows me how to get to there. Indeed, the rate is special--I'm their guest for the day, for the night; thanks kind folks, thanks!

There's a tub in the room; it's a lovely room with king-sized bed, phone, fridge, the works. I am very thankful for so much goodness, each day does it not come to me! Thank you, Lord; I know you've set my path, as each passing day I see it more clearly.

"The difficulties you meet will resolve themselves as you advance.

Proceed, and light will dawn, and shine with increasing clearness on your path."

[Jim Rohn]

Thursday--May 28, 2009
Trail Day--068
Trail Mile--28.3/477/1904
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Soldier Lake NF Campground near Betchler Lakes

My decision to head for Paradise Tuesday evening was sure the right decision. You'll recall I managed to get under the roof of a woodshed that night in order to get out of it. Then yesterday it rained off and on, mostly on, all day, not the most happy of times. That's when I began suspecting that the rain I've been dealing with was just getting started, that sort of overcast dreariness that comes in, plunks down--and stays. So, as the rain continued all last night and into this morning, was I ever glad to be here at Curley's, warm and dry.

As I'm packing my gear this morning, Linda calls to offer the room for another night. "You really should stay."she says. "The forecast is for rain all day today." It's so tempting to accept her kind offer, but it is time to go, and I must be moving on.

As I enter the bakery/cafe, the early morning klatch is gathering. Gene invites me over to sit and chat. While I'm putting away my four sunnyside-ups, Gene tells me a little about his life, how he got drafted into the Army in '41. Ended up under Patton. After the war, he decided to stay and make a career of it--the full twenty. He's still in the reserve, Coast Guard now. Thanks, Gene, for letting me join you this morning, and thanks for your unselfish service to this great nation of ours; you're my kind of hero!

Back at Curley's, to say farewell to Bill and Linda, gotta pause for a photo op. Ah, what a delightful couple these two--gentle, kind, and generous folks. My stay here at Curley's has been much needed, a great benefit. Thanks, dear new friends!

A couple of stops on my way out of town. First, the Paradise Market for four day's supplies. Then to the post office to mail a few things.

Heading south now, the rain isn't hard at it, but it's sure steady. Ten miles down to my turn/return to certified trail. Heading through, the tread is a total sponge. Some areas around have received over two inches of rain the last couple of days, and there appears no letup in sight. Much flooding, lots of mud. No way of hiking in these conditions, no matter your gear, without a total soaking. Climbing over, under, around, and through the brush and blowdowns slows my progress to a crawl. One two-mile section takes two hours. This sort of trail, these most unfavorable conditions, sure no fun to hike. And it's dangerous, very dangerous. So, when I finally clear the section, arriving the next road, I stay the road. Unfortunately, I'll be missing some certified trail, but there's just no way to hike it safely and make the least progress. Along, and as I reach other certified sections, I head in to give them a go, but soon return to the road. Blowdowns, brush, lack of tread, absence of blazes, more mud, more flooding--no way, just no way.

At a little after two, just past Shallows Traihead, I take my final look at Lake Superior, and my final picture. From here I turn south toward Lake Huron and Lake Michigan, toward the Straits of Mackinac and the completion of my trek across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, a distance in excess of 500 miles.

Around four, the faucet finally shuts off. By six, the sky is entirely clear--but I keep my poncho at the ready.

Thinking back to this latest act of kindness, that from Bill and Linda at Curley's in Paradise, never have I expected, nor have I ever taken for granted such kindness and generosity so lavished upon me--from folks I chance to meet along the way. It never ceases to amaze and astound me each time I'm so blessed.

"No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another.
Good example is followed.

A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions,
and the roots spring up and make new trees.

The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves."

[Amelia Earhart]

Friday--May 29, 2009
Trail Day--069
Trail Mile--25.3/502/1929
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Little Bear Creek and on to Silver Creek, below Mackinac Wilderness

As the day wore on last, late afternoon toward evening, the weather turned from not-so-great to really great, so too, the not-so-great trail. As the terrain became sandy toward Betchler Lakes, higher and better drained, the trail widened out, through plantations of pine. It turned dry, was well-marked and much better maintained. The Hiawatha Shore to Shore Chapter, NCTA, they've been here this spring and have cleared the many blowdowns. What an amazing change in just a few hours. The pictures I took this morning, in the steady, steady rain, the mud, the flooding, the brush and blowdowns, yes, what an amazing change!

I'm out this morning to another iffy day. The rain returned during the night, off and on again. As it lets up a moment, I get my chance to strike camp without getting everything soaked. I'm soggy, all my gear mushy and soggy, but not soaked. The welcome change in trail continues as I hike on, the sun making a show now and then. Hard to believe the trail is almost totally dry, my feet dry; sure a welcome change. Wide open, dry, well marked and maintained trail. Oh my, have I not paid my dues!

Once my pack is shouldered in the morning, I usually keep trucking all day. But this morning, as the sun burns through and there's a gentle breeze, I stop in a lovely (dry) clearing, drop my pack, empty it entirely of its contents, then scatter and hang everything around to dry--my mushy sleeping bag, my soaking wet tent, all my (meager) clothes, everything's draped out to dry--as I take a break, lay back the half-hour, and just relax in the soothing, delightful comfort of the warm sun.

Everything freshly aired and dried out, I repack my bag, shoulder it once more, and am on my way light-hearted (and light-packed).

This has turned to be an absolute fun day, what with great trail, dry feet, I've really hammered down the miles.

Late evening now, I must make a detour around Carp River. The bridge there is out. So it's down MI-123 two miles, then right back over Burma Road another two. As I pick up the trail south of Burma Road, my shadow has turned very long (yes, the sun's still shining), I find a little water (the brown, tannic kind), a flat grassy spot, and I call it a day.

This has been one of the most enjoyable times yet, along this North Country Trail. Oh happy day!

"Happiness is different from pleasure.
Happiness has something to do with struggling, enduring, and accomplishing."

[Stephen R. Covey]

Saturday--May 30, 2009
Trail Day--070
Trail Mile--24.8/527/1954
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Brevort Lake, then on to St. Ignace

I wake to a very chilly but beautiful clear morning. Somehow I manage to strike camp without the usual sticks-for-fingers, and I'm pack up and hauling--till I hit the beaver dam. The trail goes right over the top of it. Hey, dry feet, might just make another day with dry feet; what is that! Next comes the finest and perhaps the longest (nearly a quarter-mile) boardwalk through a low area. Then a nice wide bridge spanning Silver Creek. Feet still dry! The trail here, in this part of the Hiawatha National Forest, is some of the finest and most productive of all the national forest lands through which I've passed. Glorious planted pine, plantation after plantation, on high, well-drained soils. Unusual for our public lands, so much of which is incredibly marginal, low, poorly drained (say swamp land). Low areas exist here, of course. But as opposed to trail encountered in like areas past, other forests, here the tread is "through" not "in" the swamp. Extensive runs of the finest boardwalks accompanied by narrow, elevated, dike-like earthen ways have been constructed, above the muck and water--just a marvelous change, no bog-bogging here! Kay, all dear friends, Hiawatha Shore to Shore Chapter, NCTA, what a remarkable trail, what beautiful work--thank you, thanks all! These last days have turned it; a delightful, glorious hike through your section of trail. Open (blowdowns cleared), well marked trail through interesting and varied terrain, memorable, absolutely memorable!

As the trail continues to skirt the northwestern extent of the Mackinac Wilderness, I'm hiking southwest. But shortly, at Brevort Lake, I'll turn east toward St. Ignace and the Straits of Mackinac, to complete my trek across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Those of you who've followed my ramblings about for awhile know that I suffer from chronic lower back trouble, L-3, L-4. When I was a youngster still in grade school I had my first job working for Stub, a dear friend. I was helping him build a small garage next his house. Laying shingles and not heeding Stub's constant concern (he really didn't want me on the roof), and being invincible as I was at that time, I managed to fall off the roof, directly into a wheelbarrow full of scrap lumber. That started it; back's been whacked out ever since. I've sure suffered over the years, but have avoided surgery. During these long treks, when my lower back swells, becomes weak and painful, I simply load up on my Osteo and enteric coated aspirin, as high as 3-4,000 mg of aspirin a day. And I always get through. Been taking a half-hour or so each morning now to get the kinks out, loosen up, and get to hauling, but my back does settle down, strength does return to my legs, and I do fine the remainder of the day.

These very long-mile days with little or no break-time do wear, and tend at times to be problematic. I have kept up my energy level, kept my spirit strong--this is a very long journey; therein must remain my focus. Living life at the fullest, the very fullest!

The trail today pops and bops, but I'm full speed ahead (three per, average), really covering the ground. The Osteo and aspirin have kicked in. Thank you, thank you, Lord! Your angels, each shoulder do carry me along.

I simply cannot comment enough on this beautiful tread. Two miles of certified trail, as shown on my maps for example, is no longer a two hour ordeal. Oh my, yes, what an absolute joy, trekking this trail.

A final comment, my back trouble. Darrell, my classmate and friend, we used to run track together, the mile relay, all those races. He's suffered back trouble the longest time too, really bad. Finally went for the surgery this year. He's done remarkably well, is pain-free now. At South Kreek Ranch, he's back running the chainsaw, his tractor and loader, building fence, all those back-breaking activities. 'Haps, after this trek, this coming winter, I'll go see his doctor.

By Brevort Lake Campground, I meet Wanda from Arizona. She's set up very comfy, big tent, screened-in porch no less. I'm greeted right off by her two friendly buddies, Gracy and Alfalfa. Gotta get my picture with the pups. Wanda gives me some (clear) water, and I'm back on the trail.

Early afternoon I get cell phone signal, so I call the Mackinac Bridge Authority, speak with Aggie. Upon inquiring about crossing the bridge, she says, "We're here 24/7. We'll take you across for two dollars." Ah, I am grateful for the phone. Much relieved to know about the service for hikers!

Later in the evening I talk to both Colleen and Kay, members of the St. Ignace Hiawatha Shore to Shore Chapter, and thank them for three of the best days this trail so far!

The last few miles into St. Ignace follow an old railroad grade. I'm sharing it with the quad-trac folks, so must move over from time to time. I'm in town by six, find a very reasonable room at Moran Bay Motel. Great view across to Mackinac Island. I'm just half a mile from the bridge. I'll cross tomorrow, last day in the U.P., last day in May.

"I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I just lived the length of it.

I want to have lived the width of it as well."

[Diane Ackerman]

Sunday--May 31, 2009
Trail Day--071
Trail Mile--17.4/562/1971
Location--Straits SP, St. Ignace, thence across the Straits of Mackinac to Mackinaw City

Well, you'll note that according to my itinerary, the stats above, this day ends in St. Ignace. You also know that I've been in St. Ignace since yesterday evening. That's because, over the past four days, I've whittled away at the 17 miles for this (itinerary) day. The remarkable trail just west of here, which I've commented much about, has made hauling the extra miles each day very easy. Having a day off, which I'm sure taking advantage of, is just a great reward for my extended effort, a needed day, as you'll quickly realize--my activities coming up.

It is really hard to believe that 71 days into this trek, that the night temperatures could still be dropping below freezing. Yes, a hard freeze warning was issued for last night, for much of the eastern Upper Peninsula area, and for good reason. Got down in the low to mid 20s, amazing! Happy I was off the ground and out of it, in my comfy room here at Moran Bay Motel, St. Ignace. Little wall heater ran full blast all night! Thanks, Tim, thanks for your kindness, for my great stay at Moran Bay!

The day arrives clear but windy. I down the other half of the pizza from supper last, load my pack, and am on my way to the Mackinac Bridge before ten. At Straits State Park I take some videos and photos. Here, as I look across the Straits of Mackinac, to the Lower Peninsula mainland, I've hiked as far as I can go here in the Upper Peninsula--and I've hiked out the month of May! Surely, this milestone, the crossing of the Big Mac Bridge, will close the chapter on this cold, prolonged winter. I'll be heading almost due south now, and into the month of June. Summer cannot be far away.

As I stand here, gazing at the Mackinac Bridge, comes a flood (another flood) of memories. Of the millions of people who've been both over this bridge and under it, I have got to be one of the first that logged so many of both. If you've read my biography, you'll know that I'm an armed forces veteran, spent four years in the U.S. Coast Guard, much of that time aboard the Icebreaker Mackinaw. That was back in the late 50s, just shortly after the bridge was completed. It was our duty to keep the shipping lanes open throughout the Great Lakes. Mostly, we broke ice in the St. Mary's River out of Superior, and the harbor at Indiana City near Chicago. So I've been under the bridge countless times, early-on, in the bridge's 50 year history. In the spring, after the shipping lanes were open, we went into drydock in Manitowac, Wisconsin. On the weekends, a bunch of us would carpool back to Cheboygan, Michigan, just east of here, home of the Mac. So I've been over the bridge countless times, again in it's very early years.

I tarry long, taking more pictures of the bridge before entering the bridge authority office to pay my two bucks for the ride across, the only ride I'll take in this 4,400 mile odyssey. Hopefully, on Labor Day, September 2010, I'll return to walk the bridge, the only day of the year it's open to pedestrian traffic. I no sooner plunk down my two bucks than Lynn is waiting for me right out front--in one of the authority vehicles. We have a nice chat, and I get a bunch more pictures and videos as we cross.

In Mackinaw City now, and as Tim's suggested, I head for the Vindel Motel on the west side. Entering the office I'm warmly greeted by Connie, the owner. My short explanation of what I'm about, and Connie provides a room at a very low (in my budget range) rate.

Next on my agenda for the day is to visit the Coast Guard Cutter Mackinaw, WAGB 83. She's decommissioned now, no longer breaking ice, and is berthed right here in Mackinaw City as a Maritime Museum Ship. I've a ten minute walk to the dock. When I see my ship again, for the first time in over 50 years, yes, another emotional flood descends. I take a short video, standing at the gang plank, before boarding. The ship is manned now by volunteers. Mary, the kind lady at the ticket booth just down the pier was amazed to hear my story--gave me a free ticket to visit the ship. She'd called the folks on board, so they were expecting me. There they stand, broad smiles. Chuck steps forward. "Fifty years, you haven't been back to the Mac in 50 years? What would you like to see first?"he beams. And so, tears streaming down my face, I again walk the decks that I so often walked, as a very young man, over 50 years ago. Chuck asks many questions as we tour the engine rooms, the machine shop, other areas where I worked my shifts and stood watch those many, many years ago. Before I return to shore, he brings out an entry/crew book with the names and signatures of other crew members who've returned over the years. Last entry was dated nearly a year ago. J. P. German was the Captain while I served on the Mackinaw. All their names are engraved on a plaque that hangs in the officer's quarters.

On the fantail, I get my picture with Chuck--and a final one of me, looking to aft port.

I'm back in my room now, composing this entry for today--tears again streaming down my face. What a day; what an emotion-filled day.

"How very special are those memories that come from long ago,

wondrously living in the caverns of our mind,

at times seemingly forgotten, and yet in a single moment,

travel back to them as if they were yesterday."

[Linda CyWiz Stolte]

Monday--June 1, 2009
Trail Day--072
Trail Mile--24.4/024/1995
Location--Wilderness SP, Sturgeon Bay

The rain came in and stayed all night. What good fortune to have been out of it, warm and dry here at Connie's neat little place.

A trip to the post office, a stop by the A&P for a few supplies, then after Connie gives me directions for a shortcut to the snowmobile trail, I'm on my way.

The rain lets up and by eleven the sun is starting to warm things up a bit.

The trail heads west from Mackinaw City, over to Sturgeon Bay, where I'll get one of my final views of Lake Michigan. At Petoskey, I'll look out and across Little Traverse Bay, and at that point, I'll not see any of the Great Lakes again this journey.

As I return to the trail above French Farm Lake I see a pair of sandhill cranes. They're perhaps no more than 30 yards ahead of me. Sandhills are generally very wary of humans and keep their distance, so it's not common to get a close-up look at one. Usually, you'll not see them, just hear the racket as they become airborne--and their squawking as they complain about being disturbed. But these two just stand and gawk back, as I gawk at them. When I advance with camera in hand, fully expecting them to fly, they just walk along, keeping their distance, their shrill, guttural rasp-of-a-call letting me know they aren't the least bit happy. But they stick tight and don't fly, pretty remarkable. And I get some pretty remarkable audio/video in the process. You'll enjoy watching and hearing these guys!

French Farm Lake is a picturesque spot, accessible by vehicle, yet secluded. The trail skirts the north shore of the lake for the better part of a mile, and in the process, passes an artesian well. Quite a wonder, water just coming out of a pipe in the ground. This is turning to be a beautiful hike, the trail open and clear of brush and blowdowns, well blazed; yes a fun hike this morning.

Just past French Farm Lake, what a surprise to see this chap walking up the trail toward me. It's Mark, the young reporter from the St. Ignace News. He's come all the way across the bridge, clear down here, just to track me down and get an interview. We have a grand time hiking along together. I can't shut up, as Mark takes notes and tries to ask a few questions. Sure hope this works out, Mark. Hate for your editor to get upset with you!

I'm hiking today in the Mackinaw State Forest, also Wilderness State Park. One of the longer established trails, the Red Pine Trail, is followed for a ways, sharing its tread with the North Country Trail. Definitely another fun hike. The trail through here is maintained by the Harbor Springs Chapter of the NCTA; great job folks--you're sure making my day!

Some other folks on the trail for a change, Don and Angie, out hiking with their two pups. Also meet Anna, Wade, and their son, Luke. They're just getting camp set, a fine warming fire already started. Sure a change seeing and chatting with folks along the trail; a welcome change that just adds to the joy of this day.

Late evening now, perhaps no more than a half-hour of light remaining (and just before beginning an extended roadwalk), I begin looking for a place to camp for the night. Shortly, off to my right in a clearing, appears an old hunt camp complete with a bunch of rickety campers leaning against the trees. There are no "Keep Out" or "No Trespassing" signs posted so I head over. Not a soul about, nor has there been since winter. The door is hanging open to one of the old campers. I enter and take a look. Not the neatest or cleanest setup, but to the right of the door there's a little dining area complete with a nook, padded seats and backrests no less. And to the left, bunks with mattresses, pillows and blankets. Well now, this looks like home. Not five-star, but the rent's right! I move in. The warmth of the day remains, so I close everything tight as I can. Dinner is a sit-down affair; and bunk-down time proves both spacious and comfortable. Just another coincidence that such grand accommodations should appear right at the end of the day, eh!

"Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and the pulleys."

[Emma Bull]

Tuesday--June 2, 2009
Trail Day--073
Trail Mile--27.9/052/2023
Location--Mackinaw SF south of Pleasant View, thence on to Petoskey

A cold wind came up during the night, rocking the little trailer, but the sky remained clear. I slept warm and comfy, snug in my little camper bunk.

My goal today, if I can get out and going, is to hammer it on down to Petoskey. Easy breaking camp, from here in the trailer, so no problem hitting the trail; I'm packed up and hauling right at seven.

The terrain is definitely changing now. As I move along this roadwalk this morning I'm in farms and fields, not forests and swamp. The hillsides are lush with grass, fenced and cross-fenced. Sure, there'll be plenty more "North Woods" and wilderness areas to come, but they will no longer reign supreme.

It's been a cloudless morning since sunrise, but the sun isn't knocking down the cold, so I must keep everything I have on, save my poncho. Not till mid afternoon can I finally remove my gloves and down vest.

More groomed and well maintained trail. I've been hiking for two days now with dry feet, unheard off, and I haven't gotten lost once, remarkable! Can't praise the Harbor Springs folks enough. Thanks for two great hiking days!

The roadwalk leads to a section of trail, then back to another roadwalk, then a bit more trail, as it works its way through and past private land. All appearances, this'll be the way of the trail from here on down, around, and up to New York.

By five, I'm downtown Petoskey, to the post office. And, oh my, isn't this amazing: I don't hit their door till eight-after-five, but they're open till five-thirty; what is this! I pick up my bounce box and much mail from family and friends.

Upon entering town, and as luck would have it, finding the American Legion hall, I headed there. The place was closed for renovation, but I chanced to meet Ross, a local member just heading home. I was looking for some local info, and Ross was the man. Told me where to stay the night, then walked me half-way to the post office. While in line at the post office, who comes in but Ross. "I'll take you to the place you need to go for a good, nourishing meal, then we'll drive up to the men's house where you'll be staying, how's that!" Broad smile from Ross (that contagious, happy, natural kindness, that innocent countenance seldom seen, save in the very young and very old). Can't help but like this guy--I like Ross!

We have dinner, then it's up to the Nehemiah House, a Salvation Army facility for men. Ross waits patiently as check in doesn't seem to be going very smoothly. Problem: I can't really be classified as homeless, a requirement at Nehemiah House. But Jay, the house manager, persists as he talks with his director. Finally (big grin from Jay), he tells me they'll put me up at Coach House Inn, the only motel I passed the whole way in. Ross loads me again, then hauls me back across town to Coach House. "I'll be here at 8:15 to take you back to the post office in the morning, you can continue your hike from there."More gentle kindness, more happy energy from Ross. Thanks, Ross, my fellow Legionnaire--I'll be ready at 8:15!

"Three things in human life are important.
The first is to be kind.
The second is to be kind.
The third is to be kind."
[Henry James]

Wednesday--June 3, 2009
Trail Day--074
Trail Mile--26.7/079/2050
Location--South of Petoskey, thence on to Boyne Falls

I had a comfortable stay here at Coachhouse Inn. And yes, I know what you're thinking, so let's talk about it, about my accepting the kindness and generosity extended me, by Jay and the folks at Nehemiah House, the Salvation Army, and Jerry here at Coachhouse. You're thinking, "How could you accept such charity when you're neither homeless or destitute?" Well, I've been asked that same question before, about accepting money from folks who darn-well needed it a whole lot more than me. As to giving and receiving, I spoke to that subject, and you can read about those thoughts in my second book, Where Less the Path is Worn--where a kind (but poor) family insisted I accept their generosity, a hundred-dollar bill. You can read about this in the journal for Odyssey 2000-2001, the entry for Saturday--December 9, 2000, Trail Day--198/4.

(Click here to go to the specific entry mentioned)

Ross is right on time this morning, ready to haul me back downtown to the post office. He waits patiently, as I'm not ready, my stuff still scattered around the room.

The office for the Petoskey News and Review, the local paper, is just across the street. While I'm busy getting my bounce box off to Lowell and a camera memory card in the mail to CyWiz, my Webmaster, Ross has been over to the newspaper, and just as I'm finishing, he's back with a reporter in tow. As they enter the post office, Ross makes the introduction, "Julie, this is Eb." Time for another interview so it seems, right here in the post office lobby. A few questions, then it's picture time out front.

Ross has a favorite place for breakfast, so we head there. A short stack and a couple eggs later, I'm fueled and ready for the day. And what a day this will turn to be. Thanks' Ross, for your time, for your genuine interest in me, for your kindness. I've much enjoyed meeting you, getting to know you.

On a roadwalk section south of Petoskey comes this young lady toward me, another reporter from the Petoskey News and Review. "Hello, I'm Christina. My editor sent me out here to find you, to learn more about you; I'd like to do an interview if you could give me just a few minutes." her greetings, notepad at the ready. As usual, once I get to yapping I can't shut up. Half-hour later, I'm finally back on the road again.

It's a beautiful day, just the least cool breeze. Gentle, rolling farmland, fields, pastures, old barns. Quite a change. In the distance I see the hill with all the microwave towers. I know we're headed there; the trail always seeks the high ground. Sure enough, in no time I'm huffing my way up. New tread has been constructed here, doesn't show on my maps. Ups and downs, even a couple of switchbacks thrown in.

My hike today is totally within the Mackinaw State Forest, so most of the trail is certified. Late afternoon, after winding around most of the day, I begin winding down for the day. On an elevated ridge I reach for my cell phone to check for a signal. I dig around in my left pack pocket. My compass, my mini-recorder, my GPS, they're all right there. But no phone; my cell phone is gone. Frantic now, I check the pockets of my pants and my other pack side-pocket, where I keep my camera. Again, no cell phone. I stop, drop my sticks and my pack, grab my head with both hands, and just shudder. This can't be, it just can't be. My phone has got to be here someplace. I rifle every pocket again--and again. No cell phone. It's gone, it's just gone. What has happened; how can this be?

Somehow, probably while reaching for my compass, or my recorder, or my GPS, I flipped the phone out. How it could have hit the ground and me not hear it I don't know. I do know that's what must have happened. But where, when? I've not checked for a signal in hours; the phone could be anywhere. No use in turning around and looking for it. Did that when I lost my camera last trek. Hiked back seven miles. Never did find it. So what's the use? A total exercise in futility, that's what it'd be. Just gotta get another phone.

Dwinda, my girlfriend, wanted me to carry a phone. She got it for me. I didn't really want it at the time, but now I use it a lot; don't know how I'd get along now without one. So, gotta have my phone. Aw, and the unpleasantness of this is all just starting to register and settle. I need to stay in touch with the NCTA folks. Saturday is National Trails Day, lots of activities scheduled, and I've agreed to participate. Bruce, with the NCTA, is expecting to hear from me. Oh my, what to do!

Well, what I obviously need to do is get to a phone fast and call Dwinda, and let her know. She'll get me another phone. I pray she won't be upset with me.

It's nine miles to Boyne Falls. It's five now, so there's plenty of daylight. These additional miles would be a whole lot easier, might they be for any other reason. When I hit Hill Road, I hit the road, Slashing Road--and haul. I'm in Boyne Falls by eight, check into Boyne Vue Motel--and call Dwinda. "What do you mean, it's gone; you lost your phone, how'd you do that!" Dwinda's reply when I tell her. I thought she'd be plenty upset with me, but she isn't. I haven't eaten all day other than energy bars, so I head out for a warm meal. Back in my room, I call Dwinda again. Incredible news: My phone's been found, by a fellow in Petoskey, and he'll bring it to me. Now tell me that isn't amazing!

Nick had been out riding his bike, getting his daily exercise when he spotted it laying in the grass just off the pavement. I lost it clear back there, on the roadwalk section just southeast of Petoskey. He called the last number that I'd called this morning, my sister, Salle Anne. Amazing, this whole mini-miracle happened by the time I'd returned from a burger and fries!

I give Nick a call. He'll drive down and have my phone back to me first thing in the morning!

Charity never humiliated him who profited from it,
nor ever bound him by the chains of gratitude,
since it was not to him but to God that the gift was made.
[Antoine de Saint-Exupery]

Thursday--June 4, 2009
Trail Day--075
Trail Mile--25.2/104/2075
Location--Mackinaw SF, Jordan River Valley Pathway, thence on to Five Lakes

What a great benefit to have been in last night. Frost everywhere this morning, hard to believe--on the grass, vehicles, dwellings, hard frost. Just as well I didn't have to sleep on the ground.

Breakfast at the mom-n-pop downtown, then back to my room to await Nick's arrival from Petoskey. Eight-thirty, just as he said. I greet him at my door. "This yours!" he asks. A kind, gentle man. He has a little time, so we chat. Nick is an architect in Petoskey, keeps in shape by bicycling. That's how he came to find my cell phone on that section of roadwalk along Greenwood Road. He's familiar with the NCT, as a good bit of it is also open to the mountain bike folks. Nick would accept no reward, not even enough to cover his expense for gas to Boyne Falls and back to Petoskey. Thanks, Nick, thanks for finding, then returning my cell phone!

As I depart Boyne Falls I hear lawnmowers running by a number of houses as I pass, and catch the fragrance of fresh-mown grass. Good sign, indeed, a good sign!

From a very cold morning it has turned most pleasant. In just a short while I'm able to remove my wind jacket, rain pants, and gloves.

The trail leads out through an area being logged. Slow going, but I find my way easy enough. At two, I reach the Jordan River Valley Pathway where I'll be hiking the remainder of the afternoon. This section of trail is heavily traveled, so it is not only well marked but extremely well maintained. The hike through is most pleasant, the river very scenic. I've a few short, gentle climbs, the rest, a commune with Nature through mature forests--a most enjoyable section of the NCT.

In the evening, at the Landslide Overlook, comes Doug, his son, Jake, and their friend, Josh. They hike a short distance with me back to their vehicle where I am treated to cookies and fruit. Thanks, guys, for coming out, for hiking awhile with me, for the nourishment--and your thoughtful encouragement!

By late evening I have reached Five Lakes where I take and treat water for the night. A pleasant, grassy knoll warmed by the afternoon sun makes for a most pleasant camp.

From a frost-laden, wintery morning, to a beautiful, warming, spring-like afternoon; perhaps this late-bloomer, spring, has finally decided to make a show after all. Can summer not soon begin! Ah, and I now look to that day.

"To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state

than to be hopelessly in love with spring."

[George Santayana]

Friday--June 5, 2009
Trail Day--076
Trail Mile--25.8/130/2101
Location--Mackinaw SF, Starvation Lake, thence on to Kalkaska

Not a bad night to be on the ground, not bad at all, compared to other nights so endured this trek. Temperatures remained in the high 40s; breaking camp not the least chore. I'm out and hiking well before seven.

Studying my maps last night, and just before nodding off, I decided then to hit the trail early and hammer it today--all the way down to Kalkaska. I have got to get in, get cleaned up; I must make myself presentable for all the National Trails Day activities scheduled for tomorrow. Senator Levin, Michigan's senior U.S. senator, will be at the events. He's heard about my hike through his staff and he'd like to meet me. So, I have got to get all this stink and goo off me (a nice way of describing the droppings from the gazillion caterpillars; they're hanging, climbing, crawling everywhere--eating everything in sight). For sure, I'm a disgusting, shameful mess. My clothing, all my gear is stained, filthy. So, it's hammer down today.

A mix of trail and road, easy, open travel. I make good time. Turkey and deer sign about. It's nesting season for turkey, and I can hear their constant clucking. Ha, and last night a deer wandered near my camp, close enough to catch a whiff of my chicken, pork, and beef (bologna) sandwich. The biggest snort I've ever heard. Poor fellow tried in vain to clear his nostrils of what must have been the worst stench he'd ever encountered. Off in the woods he crashed, in full snort!

Along the road today I meet folks--two separate occasions.

First, Mary and Bill. Mary is making her daily trip to the mailbox. We chat and she invites me up for coffee--then introduces me to her husband, Bill. I get the grand tour of their most delightful home. They keep young (he-79, she-75) through their passion for snowmobiling.

Second, Ted, his daughter, Melissa, and her husband, Ted. They're section-hiking the NCT--pup Isis along, also. We have much enjoyable conversation. They're with the Spirit of the Woods Chapter, NCTA, Joan Young (now also my dear friend), chapter leader.

Late afternoon the NCT comes along and joins with the Shore to Shore Trail, an equestrian path that crosses the Lower Peninsula. Not an easy hike, what with the deep, narrow, sandy bottom. But I make good progress.

I arrive Kalkaska before dark and head for the Granada Inn Motel, first stop by the northern intersection of Michigan highways 72 and 66.

Settled in, I contact Bruce, NCTA Executive Director. He'll be picking me up in the morning. Bruce gets me squared away for tomorrow.

Aw, what an absolute chore, hand washing all my clothing. As in the quote ending this day, I have certainly stripped myself of most earthly "things." But ya gotta have clothes, man, ya just gotta have 'em!

"It is a fair trade and equal exchange to the extent that you depart from things...God enters into you with all that is his, as far as you have stripped yourself of yourself in all things. It is here that you should begin, whatever the cost, for it is here that you will find true peace, and nowhere else." [Meister Eckhart]

Saturday--June 6, 2009 National Trails Day
Trail Day--077
Trail Mile--23.5/154/2125
Location--Pere Marquette SF, west of Kalkaska

Today will be a zero-mile day although you see posted above a mileage of 23.5. I have hiked hard the past number of days, each day gaining a few miles on today. The ending location, also posted above, is just 2.9 miles west of Kalkaska, where I've been since late yesterday evening. So, I'm showing that mileage for today, since I've already hiked all but 2.5 miles of it, and sure, I'll pick them up first thing tomorrow. So, might I say, this day, National Trails Day, 2009, is a well earned (and dues paid up) day off!

A good night's sleep. I'm rested, my clothes as clean as I can get them by hand. I do look and smell fresh.

Good thing. Bruce, his wife, Elana, and their daughter are here a little before nine. I load and we're off to the events for the day.

First is the dedication of a new section of North Country National Scenic Trail, a certified section near Guernsey Lake, Pere Marquette State Forest, constructed by the Grand Traverse Hiking Club Chapter NCTA. We arrive just as do over 50 others. Senator Carl Levin and his wife, Barbara, also arrive shortly. A fun-filled, ribbon-cutting event. The senator is a great trail supporter and advocate. All could tell that he was certainly at ease, among many dear friends he's known for years. His assistant and regional representative, Harold, introduces them. They are genuinely pleased to meet me. A memorable moment.

A short hike along the newly dedicated section, then off to a pot-luck luncheon attended by all.

In the afternoon, we drive to the Jordan River National Fish Hatchery for a gathering with Friends of the JRNFH, a trail maintaining affiliate of the NCTA, also present are members of the Tittabawassee Chapter NCTA.

A grand, events-packed day. Now, and fearful of omitting the names of many of the folks I've met (gotta cut me some slack, I'm an old man), I want to thank John, Rick, Dick, Joan, Pam, June, Arlen, Bob, Lois, Mike, Jeff, Vince, Duane, Joel, Joe, Dan, Gary, Larry, Bob, Paul, Dan. Master Scouts, Venture Crew 7772, Kaytlin, Nick, Jesse, Dustin. Also, Roger (JRNFH Director), Gretchen (National Public Radio, WKAR, East Lansing), and Aaron (Grand Rapids Press). Oh, and thank you, Bruce, for hauling me around all day!

The question asked by so many today, as always, was: "Why?" The why meaning, why are you doing this; what drives a person to hoist a pack and walk over 4,000 miles? Good question. Not sure I have such a good answer.

I used to tell folks that if you gotta ask the question, you aren't going to understand the answer. Better, and I've distilled it down to 34 words, and you can read that ditty, entitled "Why Go?" at my poetry page here on my site. The first line pretty much tells it all:

"It's the people..."
[N. Nomad, Why Go]

Sunday--June 7, 2009
Trail Day--078
Trail Mile--25.6/180/2150
Location--Pere Marquette SF, West of Fife Lake

Never will I take for granted, rather, forever will I be thankful for the blessings continually bestowed. Again last, the finest situation, to be sheltered, warm and dry here at Rashid's Motel, as the rain came early and remained steady the entire night. This has been my second night here in Kalkaska, an unusual sojourn, a rarity this odyssey. Thank you, Rashid, for your kindness and hospitality.

Yesterday evening, then again this morning, I have reintroduced myself to Burger King. I had forgotten their grand selection of fine fare. To follow up and to top off my Whopper and fries last evening I much enjoyed an Oreo crumb soft ice cream. This morning I'm right back for a couple of egg and cheese croissants, cheese-filled tater tots, along with near a pot of coffee. Really roughing it, eh!

This trek I've decided to eat cold while on the trail, as I prefer not lugging the extra weight of a stove, pot, and fuel. As a result, I must begin my days from camp with no coffee, quite the sacrifice.

Heading west out of Kalkaska (coffee in hand) I am facing a dark, dreary day. Rain continually threatens, but holds off. Along MI-72 I soon pick up the familiar blue paint blazes on the light poles and I'm back on track.

The hike today leads me over finely manicured trail, well-blazed, with tread of packed sand lightly covered with pine needles--happy feet, oh yes! The Shore to Shore horseyback trail criss-crosses, comes and goes, and the NCT moves to it for short distances time-to-time. Almost all the remaining of the trail today is certified, just a joy to hike here. In the afternoon, and past Guernsey Lake, the site of yesterday's activities, the trail drops to follow the Boardman River, a most picturesque section of certified trail. At a little past three I'm at Dollar Lake. Here on the lake sign hangs a white shopping bag, a short note attached. "Hello Eb, I met you at the National Trails Day event and I was hoping to hike with you today...I'm leaving you some snacks. Have a safe and enjoyable journey." Signed, "Dick." Well, I sit down on the bench right here--snacks don't last long!

While polishing off the last of the raisins and the Hershey bar, I get a call from Mark. He and his family live in Kingsley, a short way west, and they've invited me to be their guest this evening. Mark is hiking toward me and soon comes along. We enjoy hiking together back to his van.

At their lovely home in Kingsley, I meet Mark's wife, Tamal, and their children, Brandon, Marissa, and Jack. Neighbors Phil and Betty are interested in meeting me, and they come over for a few minutes just before supper. Betty presents me with a Petoskey stone.

Tamal has prepared a feast, an early Thanksgiving. The family asks if I would give thanks, then we all dig in.

The Lindsay's are early risers and the children are still in school, so shortly after supper I retire to my own room to catch up on journal entries.

More dear, new friends--It's been a fine day.

"I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new.

Shall I not call God The beautiful, who daily showth himself so to me in his gifts."

[Ralph Waldo Emerson]

Monday--June 8, 2009
Trail Day--079
Trail Mile--23.5/204/2175
Location--Pere Marquette SF, Anderson Creek/Manistee River

My good fortune continues--being out of the rain during the night. Just after supper last the rain came again and remained steady. The wafting aroma of freshly brewed coffee lifts me right up and carries me to the source.

The children are preparing for school and Tamal must be going. She's a school bus driver and she can't be late. Mark is the manager of a tire store in Traverse City, so he must be on his way too. That time, more sad good-byes. Such a kind and generous family. I will certainly remember them--and miss them.

Mark loads me, in the pouring rain, and after a short stop at the local convenience (I need a few supplies), he delivers me back to the forest and to the trail. A little help with my poncho, a good solid hug, and he's gone.

It's such a dark morning, the kind of no monkey-business rain. The trail has become submerged from the deluge, all the trailside foliage wet, and I am soon soaked, wet feet, the works.

The certified trail drops right down into a pristine area known as Valley of the Giants, an area of virgin pine passed by during the logging era years ago. It's a grand cathedral, what with the towering sentinels, but I'm able to take no pictures as I'm fearful of harming my camera in the continual downpour.

From Fife Lake, the trail goes generally south to join the Manistee River, which it follows the remainder of the day, save for a short section near Baxter. On the roadwalk there, a lady stops to get my autograph. Her daughter rides the school bus driven by Tamal, and Tamal had told her about me.

Late evening, the rain unrelenting, I become concerned about pitching for the night. It has turned cold and I am very wet. Pitching in the rain without soaking all my gear is impossible. At least if there's a technique, I've never learned it.

But my good fortune continues, and as "luck" would have it, I come upon this popup camper parked by the river right on the trail. The permit shows that the folks moved it in here this past weekend and will leave it here through next weekend. No one's in, no posted sign. It's unlocked. Oh yes, this is home. I'm able to hang all my wet belongings about to somewhat dry. Supper is at the nook, cushioned backrest no less! The rain continues, but once again I am (not so warm) but dry. In my down bag I do warm myself and am soon comfortable for the night.

I've tried keeping a good attitude this day, but the dreary character of it and the cold soaking made it a challenge.

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."

[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]

Tuesday--June 9, 2009
Trail Day--080
Trail Mile--24.3/228/2199
Location--Manistee NF, Manistee River

I slept in total comfort again last. Yes, and I know what you're thinking, "The luck this guy has." But folks, it is not luck, believe me it is not. For you see, I have an angel resting both my shoulders. Each day, when I say my prayer, "A Path by the Side of the Road" (You can read it at Poems/Ditties) I am comforted and reassured by their constant presence.

I linger here in the camper this morning, not wanting to get going, as I'll be out to face a cold, dreary day.

The trail continues along the Manistee high bank following the old woodsroad shared by many and varied users. Occasionally, there's a bit of constructed, certified trail for hikers only. Late morning and as I study my maps, where the trail breaks away from the river to head north along another woodsroad, and as I size up the situation, I decide to head south on that same road--I want to pass through Mesick.

Trails, this trail, they're not built with the thru-hiker in mind, and that's as it should be. Folks want to go to the forest for the quiet, to enjoy nature, for that experience. They're not interested in walking down the road to town. And so, to the woods goes the trail. Folks can drive to the forest and hike there for the day, the weekend. And when their time is up, they can load and drive the distance to town, to home. But for the thru-hiker, this certainly presents a challenge, trying to stay on trail, yet trying to care for himself, sustain himself, keep nourished and reasonably clean. So off to Mesick this old thru-hiker goes.

But how about this; there's been a trail reroute, and the NCT now goes the very same way I'm headed, to cross the Manistee River on MI-37, to follow the highway along toward town!

Along this roadwalk section comes a cyclist toward me on his mountain bike. He stops and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Jon, been following your journals, took the day off and came up (from Holland) in hopes of tracking you down and meeting you." Seems the day has turned out fine for Jon. He turns and heads back to Mesick, to Jeri's, where I'll arrive in about an hour, and we'll have lunch together. Proves a most pleasant time--thanks, Jon!

Hiking MI-115 out of Mesick, and at Hodenpyl Road, I pick up the familiar blue blazes again. Well now, this is certainly a new twist--trail to accommodate the thru-hiker! Dear folks with the Grand Traverse Chapter, NCTA, thank you!

The blazes lead me into the Manistee River Red Pine Plantation, then onto and across private land owned by the McNitts. They have a campground and a boat launch on the lake; quite nice. I hike down, meet Mrs. McNitt, and thank her for permitting me to hike across her campground. A bit further along, more private land, the huge Northern Exposure R.V. and Recreation Park, also on beautiful Hodenpyl Lake. Again, I head down, to the park office, there to leave a note expressing my gratitude to Suzi, Park Director. The NCT passes for a fair distance through the park and along the lake; a fine section.

I follow white blazes (side trail) down River Road a ways, below the lake outfall. At this point the river is crossed by a remarkable and very large pedestrian suspension bridge. Here I meet Ryan and Ben. Talking with them I learn that the Manistee River (although the dam is in place, power being generated) is now managed strictly as a river. What this means is: The volume of water entering the lake any given time, equal volume is also discharged. Water is not held for future hydropower generation, only as needed to maintain reasonable lake level. So here at the bridge is there passing an enormous volume of water, just as seen flowing the past number of days above the dam. Only difference, here the water is crystal clear, not the color of "Big Muddy."

Late evening now, I find (and treat--beaver all about) water for the night. Offered up is this grand spot in a planted red pine plantation. Unusual swarming horde of mosquitoes, though.

A long, constant hammer-the-miles day. My only interruptions, those mentioned. Each and every day I must stay focused on purpose, on direction. Lake Champlain remains so very far away.

"One should act in consonance with the way of heaven and earth, which is enduring and eternal.

The superior man perseveres long in his course, adapts to the times,

but remains firm in his direction and correct in his goals."

[I. Ching]

Wednesday--June 10, 2009
Trail Day--081
Trail Mile--26.7/255/2226
Location--Manistee NF, well past Nine Mile Bridge

Rained off and on all night, but the morning dawns to clear skies. By a little after seven I'm pack up and hauling. Wind jacket and gloves for a short time only--then spray and head net for the skeeters.

I have been hiking on, and in the next four or five days will be completing, one of the longest stretches of pretty much uninterrupted off-road trail, around 500 miles. It began in the U.P. and will end, basically, at Croton Dam.

Turkey are everywhere; I hear both the gobblers gobbling, and the hens clucking. I see them and their chicks. All the other friends of the woods now have and are caring for their young. Said it before, many times--looks like spring is here. But then again...

The section of trail this morning, below Tippy Pond, is one of the most delightful sections I've yet hiked. It follows beside the Manistee to cross open, green meadows for a considerable distance. In the meadows about are wildflowers in profusion, an amazing variety and abundance. I pause often to take pictures of their pretty faces.

Where the trail crosses a meadow I startle two turkey hens, their young brood under wing. They let me venture close enough for some grand video, both of them and their chicks. Finally, they've tolerated enough of my invasiveness; they flush to the trees nearby. The chicks are hilarious as they too take flight--haven't got the knack quite down yet.

Beyond the open meadows the trail again climbs by switchback to the ridge above. So ends the hike below Tippy Pond; yes, a grand, memorable bit of this amazing and varied NCT!

This short time spent hiking through the meadows, by the river, has been so inspiring. Comes now the realization that man can only mimic, man can only copy. Man cannot create. The rushing waters, the hills above, the towering pine, all combine in perfect harmony to form Nature's cathedral, God's own place where man might commune with Him in silence. The most impressive cathedrals man has designed and erected do not near match this grand and glorious place. Indeed, man might experience God's presence within them, but does God not truly take residence in Nature's bosom!

I dearly love the mountains. To me the most beautiful and spectacular of them all are the Southern Appalachians, in and about the Nimblewill, such a special place near Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Within those hills and here below Tippy Pond today are such of Nature's spiritual places.

As I cross the Manistee River at High Bridge, I am now hiking trail maintained by volunteers of the Spirit of the Woods Chapter, NCTA. More finely blazed and maintained trail. Also, here the trail turns to leave the Manistee, a most remarkable and memorable section of NCT that I've been hiking the past three days.

Much of the trail late this morning and this afternoon crosses tribal lands, property of the Manistee Reservation, the Little River Band, Ottawa, the trail, again, well blazed and cared for.

Lunch is at Shindler's Rest, a neat little private picnic area just for hikers, complete with water and a privy. I sign their guestbook. Thanks folks!

I end this day much inspired and energized--a grand day in the presence of Nature and Nature's God.

"The trail gives deep, rewarding fellowship...

an opportunity to commune with God himself in God's Kingdom, in His house."

[Dan Sheltowee Rogers]

Thursday--June 11, 2009
Trail Day--082
Trail Mile--27.5/283/2254
Location--Well past Timber Creek NF Campground

The skeeters here this morning are unmerciful. Oh, and I thought the ticks were gone--NOT! It's pretty much no-seeum through my no-seeum. I must scold myself harshly about moving out. What a time striking camp. The army and air force, well trained and equipped, everything the enemy can muster they've thrown at me. If you've followed along my treks for any time at all, you know I can live quite well with the bugs--and remain sane and happy. So, when you hear me whining and complaining, sure enough you don't want to be here!

The day begins iffy weather-wise; looks and acts like rain--holds off all day though.

I am completely out of provisions. Popped the last of my M&Ms last evening for dessert. My map here displays the symbol for supplies at a little crossroads near Loon and Sauble Lakes. Sure hope something's there, a convenience store, something. Ah yes, turning the corner and looking up Bass Lake Road I see Blossom Restaurant. I'm in, in a flash, for all their coffee--and a grand breakfast. I'm told by Doug, a local who mountain bikes the nearby permitted sections of trail, that the store shown on my map is closed, but on up Bass Lake Road a half-mile, there's a fine convenience store. Yup, angels both shoulders!

At the store I meet Stevie, a kind lady who lets me drain her coffee pot while my cell phone and camera batteries are charging. Comes in Jim as I'm gathering supplies to get me into White Cloud. Says on his hat, "Take a Hike." I have fun with that one!

Hot dogs, buns, cheese, M&Ms (the BIG bag), sunflower kernels, wafers--way too much food. Gotta lug it; I never learn.

The trail these past number of days has been outstanding, wide open, well blazed, no blowdowns. Easy going, just an occasional pop up or down; I've been doing some big-mile hauling. Trail now is maintained by volunteers with the Western Michigan and Spirit of the Woods Chapters, NCTA. Great job folks! To all you who work diligently to build and maintain this trail, I am the benefactor of your unselfish and untiring work--thanks!

Another hammer-down day on the NCT. Won't mention the miles I've covered for fear you'll not believe me.

I punch down my last tent stake just as dark descends. In my tent now, I herd the horde of skeeters to one corner and bludgeon them all. Cold hot dogs, cheese--sure goes down good. I'm pooped; I'm out!

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry the weight."

[Reggie White]

Friday--June 12, 2009
Trail Day--083
Trail Mile--28.1/339/2282
Location--Manistee NF, way past Nichols Lake--actually, White Cloud

The skeeters are lethargic this morning; I am lethargic this morning. But I'm out, pack shouldered and trekking before seven-thirty.

Looking at my maps now do I realize that if I really put the hammer down today I can actually reach White Cloud by late evening, as I've knocked down all the miles for today already, save for ten.

If you glance back at the high miles on my itinerary for the past number of days, since Kalkaska, especially the past three, I'm sure you're thinking, "No way!" But I have hiked them, save for some short, unredeeming sections that wander about, thither and yon, through the flatwoods and the ferns (Trailbuilders, please--I'm not complaining!). For those connect-the-dots segments, I took to the roads nearby. From them I was able to see the flatwoods and the ferns just as well. Also, and I suppose you can be the least critical with me about this next comment, and deservedly so, but dear folks I have certainly seen "The North Woods," been there (for near three months now), done that, got that T-shirt! So when I keep commenting about "hammer-down," I hope you'll not be too critical in your analysis--the quality of my journey.

The highlight of this day is meeting Dale. He's out photographing some of the bridges that cross the many nearby small streams and lake outfalls. I passed his car parked by one of the sand two-tracks crossed by the trail. I saw the huge cooler in his back seat. As we meet (he's headed back) we share a very pleasant exchange. During the conversation I comment about wishing I'd met him back at his car--I'd have Yogied some goodies off him. Big smile, "Meet you at one of the crossing on down. he says. And so, in an hour or thereabouts, who do I see waiting for me, cooler out, lounge chair set--and another big smile; oh yes, Dale! Thanks Dale, for your thoughtful kindness and generosity. Relaxing fun!

Okay, so you're still scratching your head, "How many miles per day has this old man hiked the last few days?"

Well, you can figure it.

Sunset isn't until almost nine-thirty now. If I begin hiking before eight in the morning I've got nearly 14 hours of daylight. I truck at three per, average two-and-a-half with ease, at least along this fantastic interstate-like tread.And I often hike all day, not stopping or dropping my pack more than two or three times. So you can figure it!

And sure, I know you're also thinking: "This guy is old; he's an old, old man." Yes, you're right, I am an old, old man.

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.

To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits

in the presence of fate is strength undefeated."

[Helen Keller]

Saturday--June 13, 2009
Trail Day--084
Trail Mile--23.9/363/2306
Location--White Cloud

Although the stats above indicate a 24-mile day, this has been a much needed day of rest. I did manage to make it to White Cloud before dark last evening. Johnny took me in at his little motel clear across town, and I got back to the mom-n-pop cafe downtown for their AYCE Friday night fish fry before they closed.

Johnny loaned me his bicycle to get back and forth to town, so I'm right back there this morning for a hearty breakfast. Then it's to the post office to mail off another memory card to CyWiz.

My poor old veteran poncho has started leaking again. My pack isn't waterproof. My poncho is supposed to protect it. With it leaking again that means everything in my pack gets wet. I was a soggy mess after the all day rain last Monday. So, after breakfast it's over to the dollar store for one of those emergency clear plastic ponchos. Hey, the dollar store has dollar ponchos--I take two!

Lots of correspondence to get caught up, and nearly a week of journal entries, the writing keeps me busy. And it's clothes washing time in between.

I've needed and am really enjoying this day off.

"I'm doing pretty well so far...It's been a long journey.

[Ben Graham]

Sunday--June 14, 2009
Trail Day--085
Trail Mile--24.6/388/2331
Location--Manistee NF, past Bills Lake to Rogue River State Game Area

I've had a very pleasant stay in White Cloud, a great day of rest. My batteries are fully recharged, as are the batteries in my cell phone and camera.

Johnny has been very kind to me, cut a hiker trash deal on my room and loaned me his bicycle to get back and forth to town.

I'm out on the road this morning. For the past 500 miles, near the past month, I've been hiking pretty much uninterrupted trail, much of it certified, from the Upper Peninsula to Croton here in the Lower Peninsula. Heading south from Croton this morning I finally leave the Great North Woods behind, to enter a much different region of small villages and farms. The large tracts of public land, the national and state forests are now fewer and farther between.

The other morning, that short span of time between when I removed my wind jacket and gloves and changed to my headnet and skeeter spray, I think that was spring. For, though spring should have been ever present for weeks, seems time and the seasons have skipped right through to summer, temperatures now hovering in the high seventies, unquestionably a glorious summer day.

As I turn the corner on 92nd Street, fellow pulls over in his truck, down comes his window and I hear, "You Nimblewill Nomad?" This has happened often enough that you'd thing by now I'd be used to it, but it's always a remarkable thing. I shake my head in disbelief, "Yes, I'm the Nomad." I reply. And so I meet Pat, the son of a longtime Florida Trail Association member, Betty, who I've met. Betty lives near Lake Okeechobee. Pat's been following my journal entries along and is amazed that our paths have crossed. Thanks for stopping, Pat. Regards to your mother for me, please.

Up from the little village of Croton and Croton Dam I stop in at a little mom-n-pop place called Hit the Road Joe where I have lunch. Here I meet Mark who is very familiar with the NCT. We enjoy talking trail. Pulled pork sandwich, ice cold Coke, a house specialty salad, all polished off with strawberry shortcake and a dollop of ice cream. I waddle up to the counter to pay, only to find that Mark already picked up my tab before leaving. Thanks, Mark!

Late afternoon now, comes a gentle breeze, and on it drifts the familiar sweet scent of honeysuckle. The cottonwood are also blooming, their more friendly snow not the least discomforting. Farmers are busy now too, crops in the fields, much work. Larry, Spring Valley Farms, comes from one of his fields in his Mule and stops to check on what I'm doing way out here. Much tradition in these parts. His grandfather emigrated to this country from the Netherlands 100 years ago this September. He was a farmer. His daddy was a farmer. Larry is a farmer.

Late evening now, I'm unable to find the trail where it heads south from 22-Mile Road. A lovely home right next, so I head over to get directions. I hesitate ever disturbing folks like this, but I want to hike this section of trail, so to their side door I go. I tap on the glass. The fellow sitting on the couch simply turns, looks, then motions me in. When I close the door, his wife, who had been napping, jumps up. "A hiker, you're a long distance hiker!" she exclaims. "Let me fix you a sandwich; do you need water." Finally getting the opportunity, I introduce myself. And so I meet Glenn and Barb. They like spending time on their Harleys--and on the trail. Barb pulls a package from her freezer. "Let me fix you a steak." I decline her kind insistence. "Please," I plead, "I just want to find the trail." One apple down, a banana and another apple in hand, they lead me down the road and to the trail. Thanks, friends, for your kindness; sorry to have disturbed you.

Don't know how I missed the trail, walked by it at least three times. It was right there; I just couldn't find it. A final wave to Glenn and Barb and in I go, skeeters in hot pursuit.

Not 50-yards in is there this cardboard sign tacked to a tree, a very fresh sign. It's dated today, reads "NCT Hikers, need anything, resupply, rest, food? 3 miles west on 22-mile Road, Call (cell phone and home phone numbers both listed)." And it's signed Head-N-Out and Tag-N-Along. What really catches my eye, at the very bottom corner, the folks have written, "Nimblewill Nomad."

I look back at the trail names and I'm thinking, "I know these folks." Forms now images to fit the names. I even remember where our paths first crossed, clear out in California last year, on the Pacific Crest Trail!

Well, I whip out my cell phone. Got one bar--Hey! I give them a call. Get Tag-N-Along right away. She can't believe it's me. "Where you plan on staying tonight?" she asks. "Out here with the skeeters." my reply. "Why don't you stay with us; we'll come and get you, say in an hour--we have guests, they'll be leaving shortly. How will that be?" I say yes! They know how to get to Glenn and Barb's place. Oh yes, I hit it right back over there--for the T-bone steak and a baked potato!

Up the side steps to tap the window--one more time. Glenn turns and looks, and motions me, and Barb jumps up all excited--one more time. "Fix the steak." I motion, "It's a kind-of-a long story!"

"How beautiful a day can be --- When kindness touches it!"
[George Elliston]

Monday--June 15, 2009
Trail Day--086
Trail Mile--23.7/412/2355
Location--Past Rogue River SGA, to 5 Mile Road near Parnell

Tim and Nancy (Head-N-Out and Tag-N-Along) have a beautiful hand-hewn log home. I get cleaned up then we sit and visit for the longest time. Come to find we have many dear, mutual friends.

Glenn told me, as we were leaving last night, that he'd thought about taking me on their own private trail, over to the NCT. Had he, I'd have missed Tim and Nancy's sign.

Coincidence, how it all played out, right folks? All just coincidence!

Steak and eggs for breakfast, then it's back to the trail. Tim and Nancy hike along with me for awhile. Then it's that sad time once more--goodbye, dear friends, goodbye.

Along a short section of certified trail, about halfway through, I meet Jill, who is running toward me. Jill was one of the guests at Tim and Nancy's last evening, and we had met. Back at the trailhead, and on her car, Jill tells me I'll find drinks and some snacks. Arriving, I help myself to a power drink and an energy bar. Thanks, Jill!

Above Rockford, and along the railtrail I've been hiking the past few miles, I meet Carl. He gives me directions through the city. He'd read about me in the Grand Rapids Press, and wishes me success for the remainder of my trek.

The roadwalk continues into Canonsburg where I stop for a Coke and a bowl of soup. By dusk I'm a little west of Parnell on 5-Mile Road. I find a grassy spot next a plowed field (not posted) and pitch for the night.

"A coincidence is a small miracle in which God chooses to remain anonymous."

[Erma Bombeck]

Tuesday--June 16, 2009
Trail Day--087
Trail Mile--23.9/436/2379
Location--Wabasis Lake Park, then on to Lowell

I'm up and hiking at six-thirty. I'm anxious to get into Lowell early today, to (finally) meet all the folks there at NCT Headquarters that I've corresponded with since last winter.

It's another great hiking day, clear, cool, no wind.

At Falasburg County Park I come to the Flat River. From here to Lowell extends another short section of certified trail. Matt, at NCT Headquarters, had expressed an interest in hiking some with me as I pass through Lowell. This section would be perfect, so I give Matt a call. No hesitancy, his decision, "Be there in 20 minutes." says Matt with excitement in his voice.

Soon comes Jill, Laura, and Matt. A joyful meeting. At the river, Laura returns to the car, and Jill and Matt hike on with me into Lowell. What a joy having company on the trail. We arrive Lowell in time for lunch, compliments of Bruce and the NCTA.

A trip to the post office, my lucky day. Maps, some summer gear, and cards, letters, and goodies from home.

In the evening I am invited to dine with Matt, his wife, Brigid, and Jill and her husband, Darl.

After supper Matt and Brigid drive me to Bruce and Kelly's lovely home. Bruce is the Executive Director, NCTA, and I'll be their guest for the next two nights.

Bruce gets me settled in, I work journal entries until my PocketMail slides off on the floor.

Looking at my maps for the remainder of Michigan, and since leaving "The Great North Woods," I've noticed that much of what's left will be roadwalking. Family and friends have always voiced concern about me hiking the roads. It really isn't as risky as one might think. Plus, in addition to my daily prayer, "A Path by the Side of the Road," I've got an angel resting both my shoulders. So, since I'll be taking to the road frequently now, to close each entry for the next number days I'd like to share that prayer with you, one verse at a time.

"Lord set me a path by the side of the road,
Pray this be part of your plan,
Then heap on the burden and pile on the load,
And I'll trek it the best that I can."
[N. Nomad]

Wednesday--June 17, 2009
Trail Day--088
Trail Mile--17.4/453/2396
Location--Lowell

Bruce has a full schedule lined up for today. I'm up a little after four. He already has coffee ready. It's still pitch black out, but I can hear the steady patter of rain on their back deck. We're supposed to meet folks from WXMI Fox 17, Grand Rapids/Kalamazoo/Battle Creek at the NCTA office, from there to drive to a section of the North Country Trail, then there to do a live take for the early morning news. We arrive the trail in time, but it's literally pouring, no way to get the camera set up and rolling here, so it's time for plan #2. To spare the details, neither plans #2 or #3 work--missed the early news. Time to regroup. Decision is to drive the fair distance to the Fox 17 studios, and take the shot there. This plan works and we're on live--don't know which segment, but it's still early. An hour+ later we've done two more live sessions plus one for the can. Smita was the sweet young lady who conducted the interview. Mike and Jason were the cameramen, Curt is, the director. I think the interviews went well--we had a fun time. Just great folks; thanks Smita, Mike, Jason, and Curtis!

Back at the NCTA office I set to sorting my gear, readying some winter things to send home, swapping out for some warmer weather gear Dwinda has sent me.

Bruce has arranged a newspaper interview for this afternoon, the Lowell paper. It goes well. A group of kids come by and I talk trail with them. A fun time. Comes too, Dave, and his kids, Zeth, Nathanial, and Logan--to show me the Little Dandy wood stove he's made and has used for a number of years. And a couple, Tom and Julie, they saw my interview and are inspired to hike, and have come in to get information on the North Country Trail.

Late afternoon, Bruce drives me to Grand Rapids to the Wood 8 TV Studio. I'm on live with anchor reporter, Brian, the evening news.

Further into evening now, and back at Bruce's lovely home, he, Kelly, and Elena prepare a grand evening meal, salad, steak, potatoes, topped off with rhubarb crunch. I'm the lucky guest!

The miles shown in the stats today were already hiked out over the past few days. And so for the zero taken today, a day off.

"Please bless me with patience, touch strength to my back,
Then cut me loose and I'll go.
Just like the burro toting his pack,
The oxen plowing his row."
[N. Nomad]

Thursday--June 18, 2009
Trail Day--089
Trail Mile--24.8/478/2421
Location--Irving

Not such urgency in getting out this morning. Bruce, kind man, doesn't call me till the coffee is brewed. Kelly is up too, and we all spend some time together, no rush. What an enjoyable time, sitting the kitchen table with Bruce and Kelly. I find that she is quite the handyman--oops, would that be handywoman? She's done much to improve their lovely home, from trimming out the cabinets to laying tile. Bruce, I learn, used to play (professionally) in a band years ago. Still does, a group with the church.

I know this is going to be a bumpy morning for awhile, through moments I would prefer not to suffer--all the goodbyes. And so, as the day dawns, Bruce says we must go. Farewell Kelly (and Elena), I've had such a pleasant stay here in your home--thanks for having me as your guest, thanks!

Same sad deal at the office. Bruce, Matt, and Jill are here, I tarry some, but I must go. It is time to go. They help me shoulder my pack, then walk me to the door. I'm okay to the door. But outside, as I try saying goodbye to these three friends I have a very difficult time. Bruce (kind man, again) steps beside me, braces me, says a prayer for me. I am calm now and able to depart from them.
The NCT leads out south of Lowell across the Grand River. I stay MI-50. I no more than hit the highway than folks start honking and waving--going both directions. Reaching I-96 I stop at Subway for breakfast. Here I relax a short while as I try catching up on my journal entries.

Back on the highway, and after only a short distance, slows a pickup in the lane across. Down comes the window and I hear the driver shout: "Good luck, God bless you, man." Up goes the window just as quickly and he speeds away.

There is much traffic today but a paved emergency lane separates us. A noisy hike, but not unenjoyable. Many lovely old centennial farms along, some having been in the same family for over 150 years.

As I hike along, at a farmhouse and down the lane, comes a lady and two lads. "You're the hiker we saw on the news last evening, aren't you?" Asks one of the boys. It's Caleb, Eric, and mom, Gail. They've got to get my picture, with them. In a moment comes dad, Darryl. He has brought me snacks and a cold fruit drink. Mom then leaves for the house, to return with a homemade cupcakes and another cold drink. Both boys are seniors, will be graduating shortly, then they'll stay busy with mission work this summer. Congratulations, Caleb and Eric!

More excitement along the roads today. Stopping to wish me well are Keith, also Dick and Joann. In downtown Middleville now comes Pat to ask if I'm the hiker on the North Country Trail. And right behind her, Tom. We all head across to the little mom-n-pop restaurant where we enjoy each other's company, as I proceed to empty a pitcher of coke and have supper. Pat soon leaves. And not known to me, she pays for my dinner. Thanks, Pat.

Tom is concerned about where I'll be camping tonight. "Forecast is for bad storms." he says. "Why don't you come and stay at my place where you'll be out of it. Oh yes, no hesitation on that one. I accept! We make arrangements to meet later in the evening, after I've got my miles in for the day.

Back on the trail, the Paul Henry Bike Path, I soon meet a group of ladies who also saw me on the live news report last night. I hand out more cards.

From the bike path, and back on the road, not long these young lads come running to catch me. All winded, one of them blurts, "You the man that's walking?" I stop to talk with them--Josh, Michael, Daniel, and Austin. They've just come from ball practice and saw me hiking the road. Five minutes or so, comes dad to find out what's going on. "He's the man who's hiking." shouts Daniel. I give out cards and am rewarded with a cold bottle of water.

Just a short distance to go now, and as I turn the corner onto Middleville Road, Tom passes, honks and waves, then continues on to Peets Road where I'll end this hiking day.

Tom greets me, "It's certain we'll have the storm tonight, a good thing I'm here to pick you up." Tom loads me, my pack, and in no time we're at his home. Here I meet Tom's wife, Diane, and their daughter, Casey.

We visit the longest time before I head off to bed.

"And once on this journey, a witness for You,
Toward Thy way, the truth, and the light.
Shine forth my countenance steady and true,
O'er the pathway to goodness and right."
[N. Nomad]

Friday--June 19, 2009
Trail Day--090
Trail Mile--22.6/501/2444
Location--Prairieville

To have been offered (and to have taken) shelter in Tom's home was an absolute blessing. For, shortly after three this morning does the storm arrive, one we'll endure for the next two hours. An enormous wall of pure energy, an electric storm of profound proportions. The full show of light and sound, strobes flashing, cymbals and drums crashing and resounding. The first report lifts me up and brings me to life. Back to sleep--kinda, I am awakened time and again as the heavens fill with sound and light. Oh my, and the rain, the rain comes in buckets, as from a brigade. On the ground, in my tent, this would certainly have been a very scary ordeal. Yes, a blessing to be in.

Diane has coffee ready a little before seven and I'm right there. Tom is the cook. He prepares platter-sized pancakes, with eggs. to energize me for the long day. I go for another coffee--or three; what an absolute treat!

Aw, but does that time soon come again, more sad goodbyes. First, Diane, as Tom gets me in the truck. Then back to Peets Road, there from Tom, a firm handshake and a wish-me-well as I shoulder my pack to go. Dear friends, your concern, your caring, your gentle kindness to this old man, I'll long remember--thanks!

The day makes an attempt at clearing, but it doesn't happen. Soon comes more darkening over as the rain laden clouds roll back in. I've some roadwalking mixed with certified trail in and around Yankee Springs SRA.

Mid afternoon, Dave, President, NCTA, who I met at trail headquarters in Lowell, and who lives nearby, comes out to track me down. He offers to take me in, to help me, as the rain is back. "Looks like another stormy night ahead."says Dave as he greets me. No hesitancy in accepting his offer of shelter--and supper. I've a few more road miles to hike to make it to Prairieville. In that short span of time two more vehicles stop. First, Raymond, who'd seen me on the news. It's literally pouring now; he wants to give me his poncho. When I tell him I'm okay with my lightweight plastic one, he hands me a crumpled up bill (to conceal the number 100). I plead with him, "Please, Raymond, I can't accept this." In a calm, reassuring voice, he replies, "I am a Christian; it is not from me." I accept the gift. Second, a young fellow, Clinton, and friend, Melinda. They pull off the shoulder across, then they both run across the road to greet me. All excited, Clinton exclaims, "You're the man walking across Michigan!" I pose for pictures.

I'm soaked by the time I arrive Prairieville. Sure glad to see Dave's smiling face!

"And lest I should falter, and lest I should fail,
Let all who know that I tried.
For I am a bungler, feeble and frail,
When You, dear Lord, I've denied."
[N. Nomad]

Saturday--June 20, 2009
Trail Day--091
Trail Mile--23.2/524/2467
Location--Fort Custer SRA, then on past Battle Creek

Dave and Jan have a beautifully restored old home right on the lake in Delton, not ten miles from the trail. And just a few steps from their front door, a guest cottage with every convenience. "We'll put you up in here." proud smile on Dave's face as he showed me their cottage last evening. "Come over and meet Jan when you're settled in." he said as he turned to go. I dropped my pack, took off my wet clothes, wet shoes and socks, then just sat awhile, in the darkening gloom, to revisit the many blessings of the day.

A refreshing shower, clean clothes, over I went to meet Pat, and to join them for supper. Before, (during and after) we had much enjoyable exchange, talking trail, and about NCT's future.

Late night, early morning, came another storm, not so long-lasting, not as intense, not as much rain. But it would certainly have been a long night, a difficult and fretful time, had I been in my tent.

Dave is an early riser. "When you see the lights on, that means coffee's ready!"his alert to me as I returned to the cottage last night. I'm up a little after six to part the shades first thing. Lights are on at Dave's. Yippee! Coffee time.

I'm soon back over for that coffee, and a fine breakfast prepared by Dave. As we continue our conversation from last evening, I learn that both Dave and Jan are civic minded. They've been active in various volunteer organizations over the years. Among his activities, Dave keeps busy now in his roll as President, NCTA. He's an avid outdoorsman. So the shoe (hiking boot here) fits. Many years ago, long before I picked up my first pair of hiking sticks, Dave had already section hiked the Appalachian Trail, a good excuse for long exploring the green horizons.

Jan is up now and comes to bid me farewell. Daily now does this sad time seem to come. She has hiked off and on with Dave. Being trail savvy, we explore that oft-ask question, "Why." Dave gives me the good news that the gloom, which lingers this morning, should clear out by noon; then the next four days should be clear.

It's a very short ride back to Prairieville, where Mary is waiting to meet and greet me. Mary is a new and enthusiastic member of Chief Noonday Chapter, NCTA. In their company, as I shoulder my pack, I say my morning prayer. Then I'm off toward Battle Creek. Thanks, Dave; thanks Jan! Great meeting you, Mary!

On the roadwalk along, I meet some fellows from Santa Fe, Jeff and Tom, out for an invigorating morning bike ride.

I am having trouble locating the trail into the Kellogg/Michigan State University property. Fellow stops, Ryan. He directs me. He has a Coke, candy, and a bottle of water for me--and (at his insistence, five dollars).

Heading to Battle Creek now, I decide to stay MI-96 to the Fort Custer National Cemetery. I linger there, among the headstones to pay my respects. Here, Paul greets me, and encourages me as I continue on Odyssey 2009.

At the cemetery I pick up the Battle Creek Linear Park Trail, a certified section of the NCT. I hike it into downtown Battle Creek.

The skies did clear around noon, and save for the frustration in being unable to stay the trail, getting lost, through the Kellogg property, it's been a great day.

As shadows lengthen, and now past Battle Creek, I find a neat little mom-n-pop motel and haul 'er down for the day.

"So blessed be the day Your judgment comes due,
And blessed be Your mercies bestowed,
And blessed be this journey, all praises to You,
O'er this path by the side of the road."
[N. Nomad]

Sunday--June 21, 2009
Trail Day--092
Trail Mile--27.4/551/2494
Location--Marshall, then on to Litchfield

Hey Dave, you're my weatherman! Today dawns a glorious day for hiking just as your forecast calls for, the first, hopefully, of many to come. Yup, sure like your forecast!

I am at the beginning of a transition now, as to the maps and guides I'll be using to get to and through Ohio. For over 1,000 miles now I have been relying on the fine waterproof maps prepared and provided me by the NCTA. However, the NCTA does not compete with other trail organizations that already have maps for trail shared by the NCT. Ahead of me, and coming up in Ohio, is the Buckeye Trail, a trail followed by the NCT for nearly a thousand miles, through western, southern, and eastern Ohio. So, for Ohio, I will be relying on the latest Buckeye Trail maps given my by Dan Sheltowee Rogers. Also, I have been and will continue to rely on the NCT Guide compiled and written by Wes Boyd some 11 years ago now. Between the two I hope to find my way along the NCT through Ohio.

Today is a roadwalk, and on the road into Marshall this morning I meet Roger and Thelma. They slow then stop in the emergency lane across. They'd seen me on the Grand Rapids News the other evening, then again passing their home a short way back. They've brought me bottled water and some homemade cookies. At the convenience store in Marshall, Tina comes up to me and wishes me well. "Saw you on TV." she says. Amazing how so many people recognize me from that one interview; I was on less than two minutes.

I've really covered the ground today. Save for the short riverwalk through Marshall, which was paved, I've been on paved county and state highways.

Late evening I arrive Lithfield. There is no place to stay in Litchfield. So, I either have to find a place to pitch here somewhere, or head on out of town. I'm starved, so it's first things first. A little faith, a little patience--as to a place to camp the night.

Hey, a Subway right on the corner. This'll work. In I go! Folks, I know you're not going to believe this. I can't believe this. While I'm sitting and polishing off the second half of my footlong, up comes this lady and her two children. "You need a place to stay tonight?"she asks. "I heard you talking to our neighbor awhile ago. We live right next door. You're more than welcome to stay in our yard if you like." I'm dumbstruck. I vaguely remember her and the children. I didn't even speak to them. And so, I meet Tasha and her two boys, David and Dillon. Before I can answer, David tells me they already have a tent set up, which I'm welcome to use. And Dillon lets me know there's also a fire ring, should I want a campfire. Well, I sure accept the offer to pitch in their yard, and as soon as I've downed my sub, I'm right back to their house.

They're waiting anxiously. Quickly begins the usual questions about my hike. All watch and are fascinated as I set up my tent.

It's been a hard hammer-down day, but aside from being tired, I've had a great time. Meeting Tina and her sons really set it off. Thanks folks, for trusting, for caring, and for your grand hospitality.

"Take the first step into faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step."

[Martin Luther King, Jr.]

Monday--June 22, 2009

Trail Day--093
Trail Mile--27.0/578/2521
Location--Litchfield, then on to Hillsdale/Osseo

Well, it was pretty amazing. Tasha, David, and Dillon, they set me up right in their back yard. Then they left the porch light on and the back door unlocked might I have needed their bathroom. Trusting, kind and caring folks--thank you, Tasha, David, Dillon.

I believe I've paid my dues, I really believe I have. The investment--these past 93 days. Fair days coming, oh will I welcome them. To have fingers that work. To feel the warmth of the sun on my face. To have dry trail, dry feet, dry gear. Yes, should I be so blessed with such days to come, I will be so thankful. Ah, and today looks to be the makings of another glorious one. I'm already out and moving a tad past six-thirty. So easy when it isn't freezing outside! Oh, I'm sure it'll get a little hot some days now, but you will not hear a single complaint from me, not today, not any day, the remainder of this odyssey.

It's no more than four minutes to the little mom-n-pop cafe downtown. The morning klatch is already forming. I'm in for two up, toast, taters, and half a pot of coffee.

Russ, a freelance writer and program manager, WCSR Radio in Hillsdale, is interested in interviewing me. We've corresponded off and on the past few days. So, I'll try to make that work. Also, Steve, one of the staff writers, Hillsdale Daily News, has also contacted me. 'Haps I'll need to slow down and take a couple of breaks today.

In Jonesville now, at the McDonald's (right on the trail) I'm sitting my burger and fries when comes up Steve and his grandson, Devin. I passed their place yesterday. They were on their John Deere mowers going at it. Comes over, too, their friend, George, a Gold Wing rider who also saw me on the road yesterday. We have a great chat.

From Jonesville to Hillsdale there's a six-mile certified section of hike/bike path. As I turn to it from Jonesville, pulls a vehicle to the shoulder of busy M-99. Here I meet Steve (different Steve). He drops Mike off, who had expressed an interest in hiking some with me. Both are active members (officers, in fact) of the Baw Beese Chapter, NCTA.

Mike can move along, and we're sharing good trail/life/other conversation till just in front of Wal-Mart. Comes now Steve from the Hillsdale Daily, for the interview I'd mentioned earlier. We spend better part of a half-hour, a fun pause.

On toward Hillsdale, Mike leads me through a new section of trail--much trail activity in this area. The Baw Beese Chapter had been on the decline, but they're again very active, taking on new members and building new trail.

In Hillsdale now, it's lunch time, so we head directly to Steve's office. Over lunch, compliments the Baw Beese folks, I get more time to meet and talk with Steve. After lunch I bid farewell to Mike who heads back south on his two-hour trip back home.

Russ, with WCSR Radio, has also been in touch with Steve about doing an interview, so we head for the radio station. Russ is in. He drops what he's doing and we go right into a very fine, very long, live interview. A relaxing, fun time.

As the evening approaches, the day cools, a perfect time for a little more hiking. Steve and Russ both want to hike with me, so we get together, do the vehicle setup, then trek the six mile section of certified trail from Hillsdale, past lovely Lake Baw Beese, to the little hamlet of Osseo.

Steve has some dear friends, Nick and Deborah, who live not forty feet off the trail in Osseo. He had called them earlier to let them know we were hiking their way. They've invited me to stay as their guest this night. A perfect stranger, but on arriving their lovely home, do they both extend a most warm welcome.

"A journey is best measured in friends rather than miles."

[Tim Cahill]

Tuesday--June 23, 2009
Trail Day--094
Trail Mile--23.4/601/2544
            18.5/620/2563 (end L.P.)
            07.9/008/2589 (begin Ohio)
Location--Lost Nation SGA, then on to West Unity, Ohio

When I arrived Osseo yesterday evening I had already hiked to within a couple miles of Lost Nation SGA, my destination for today. The additional miles that have allowed me to get nearly a day ahead were accumulated over the past number of days, since leaving Lowell. So, the trail mile data for today reflects not only the miles from Litchfield to Lost Nation, but also today's miles, from Lost Nation to West Unity.

And so, might we discuss this a few moments--and address your skepticism. You see, folks just shake their heads when I answer their question about how many miles per day I hike. I tell them that to trek 25 miles, or in excess of 25 miles on a daily basis, is certainly not a superhuman thing. Indeed, it is easy enough, especially with such kind tread, such well-groomed trail, the roadwalk miles, and the longest of the long daylight days, fifteen-plus hours of daylight now.

Regardless, I'm sure you must be thinking,"This guy's gotta be taking rides." But I have not; I have hiked every foot of trail to where I've ended this day, save the five miles across the Straits of Mackinac. Believe me, it is true.

I am able to hike at a very comfortable and steady pace, three-per. To average two and one-half is a cakewalk, even when I dilly-dally.

So how is it possible, with an itinerary of 25-mile days consistently (or more), day after day, how is it possible to get a day ahead?

Okay, here's the answer: Let's pick 14 for the number of daylight hours. Multiply that by two. We get 28. Half of 14 is seven. Add that to the 28 and all of a sudden you've got a pretty impressive number--35! This number is derived by using an average of two and one-half per. So, for a high 20s day, there's plenty of time to do the miles, with time to spare. And when I shoulder my pack in the morning, from that time, I seldom take more than two or three short breaks, sometimes not even bothering to drop my pack. To hike the miles on into the 30s just takes more time, of which I've plenty.

Most folks who backpack, nine out of ten, are members of what I call "The Green Tunnel Crowd." They like to hike the meadows and mountains, the wilderness trails. Last place you'll likely ever catch them is on a hot, busy, four-lane highway. I tell you that no one enjoys communing with Nature, no one takes more pleasure from the solitude experienced along the trails than me. But unlike most, I do not avoid nor do I shun hiking the roads. I embrace them, and I take great pleasure in walking their shoulders. Sure, at times the highway can become a frying pan, sure it can be noisy and chaotic. But I've adapted to all of that. I've adjusted my clothing and gear to it, and have become accustomed to it. Yes, I take great pleasure in roadwalking--you might even say that the North Country Trail is made for the old Nimblewill Nomad!

I'm nearing my summer packweight now, around six pounds. Ah, and tomorrow we'll talk more about that, about my clothing and gear--for the road.

Nick and Deb have a delightful guest cottage right next their home, and that's where I stayed last night. Deb told me to hit their back door around seven. She'd have coffee on and the frying pan at the ready for sausage and eggs. And what a very fine breakfast. I'm not much on morning sweets, but no way can I pass up the homemade rhubarb jam! Over breakfast I learn that Nick is a Harley rider. They're both antique collectors, especially all things nautical.

They've a lovely patio in the back. After breakfast, we move out there to sit and further enjoy each other's company--and to finish off the coffee.

A little before eight-thirty, I manage to shoulder my pack and be on my way. Thanks, Nick and Deb; so long! Friends made so easily, but alas, I'll not likely ever see either of them again.

My sincere appreciation, also, to Russ and Steve, and to the great, enthusiastic members Baw Beese Chapter, Mike and Steve. I'll likely not see them again either. So thanks, dear friends, thanks all!

I head out on a roadwalk this morning, generally south and east, down to Lost Nation State Game Area. Here will be the last sections of off-road trail I'll hike here in Michigan. A little meandering the wooded slopes, a balancing act along top of a beaver dam, and the trail leads back to the road.

The interview with Steve yesterday, well, the paper is out this morning and seems that the NCT (and me) are front page news! More honking and waving from passing motorists today. Many folks wishing me well. North of Waldron, does this vehicle slow, then stop. I'm handed an ice-cold bottle water and a bag of tootsie rolls. "Sally, at The Friendly Store read about you in the paper and found out you were coming through Waldron. She wants you to stop so she can meet you when you pass through." It's Cathy and Lori, and Lori's son, Michael. Lots of questions. Then picture time.

In Waldron, I stop in to meet Sally. Air conditioning feels good. I linger quite awhile.

No more than two blocks south in the little village comes these folks on bicycles. The lady is waving the newspaper at me. Moments later, another lady, Cheryl, comes out her front door and hands me a glass of ice water, an apple, and a bag of homemade rhubarb cookies. Returns now the bicycle lady, Buffi, with her daughters, Ashante and Jessi. They gotta have my picture. Laughing and carrying on--it's a hoot!

Late afternoon now, and on Territorial Road, I pass from Michigan to Ohio. In Ohio, the roadwalk continues on down to West Unity. Here I pick up the old Wabash Cannonball Railtrail and turn southeast, toward Wauseon. After a mile or so, I find a place next the trail by a farmer's field and call it a day--and what a day!

"Focus on the journey, not the destination.

Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it."

[Greg Anderson]

Wednesday--June 24, 2009
Trail Day--095
Trail Mile--24.7/033/2614
Location--Swanton, then on to Oak Openings Metropark

To trek the highways with any degree of ease and comfort, the right clothing and gear are essential. Paramount are the correct shoes and socks. Believe me, it is impossible to come down from the green tunnel, to the highway, and hike any distance with a forty-pound pack, heavy boots, and standard wool socks. I found that out the hard way many years ago. I've since made the necessary changes, have adapted, and so can you. Once you've become adept at moving along with ease, comes the reward, the payoff. Up on the ridge, in the green tunnel, you'll never get to know the people, visit their communities, see where they live and worship, work, and play. The varied cultures, the kindness and generosity, which prevail, these delightful experiences, up in the green tunnel you remain far removed.

You don't have to become a gearhead like me to adjust. It isn't necessary to reduce your packweight to a measly six pounds. But getting down to ten or twelve is relatively easy (just expensive). And once your packweight is manageable, you no longer need your heavy boots. It's time for some comfortable shoes. You're likely to tell me your boots are comfortable, sure, sure. If that's the case, then why do they remain in the closet, to come out only when you go hiking? Why don't you wear them all the time? Hold it--I think I know the answer. It's because they're heavy, they're hot, and, truth be known, they ARE uncomfortable. The shoes I hike in are the shoes I wear every single day, all the time, every day!

Please take a moment, go to my sponsors page, scroll down, click on New Balance. These folks make the very best athletic shoes in the world. They're one of my most steadfast sponsors. I've worn NB lightweight cross-trainers for many years, thousands and thousands of miles. For this trek they've provided four pair of their super 812s. They are cool, as in cool to the feet, and absolutely cushy.

I've heard for years, and I have no idea the dynamics, but I've heard that to take one pound off your feet (heavy boots), is the equivalent of dropping four pounds off your back. I didn't believe it either. However, when I changed from my four pound boots to New Balance cross-trainers weighing less than two pounds the pair, I became a believer--and you will too. A truck needs truck tires. With your reduced packweight, you are no longer a dual tandem. If you can just reduce your packweight to 20 pounds, such an easy task, you are ready to safely and comfortably switch to low-cut, lightweight cross-trainers.

Okay, now the socks. I wear Bridgedale socks, again, the finest athletic sock in the world. Click on their banner at my sponsors page and learn about the amazing micro weave process Bridgedale has invented and perfected. Once you've worn a pair of Bridgedales you'll never go back to your burlaps. Now, and for the remainder of the summer I'll be wearing their "Light and Airy" series sock. My feet get hot and they tend to sweat just like yours, but with my Bridgedales and NBs (with top venting, a feature with my 812s), my feet will remain cool and dry, even when the tarmac is blistering.

So, get your packweight down, switch to New Balance cross-trainers and Bridgedale socks. Oh, and don't forget your Leki trekking poles. Come down out of your green tunnel and hike with me. Experience the unending, ever-present excitement and joy found only along the highways and byways of our great nation. We'll do a 25 or 30 together, eh!

To my dismay, I was unable, last, to find a place to pitch along the railgrade, so I hiked until dusk, finally pulling off in a farmer's field. I had considered camping directly on the trail, but I'm sure glad now that I didn't.

I can't tell there's ever been any effort to keep motorized vehicles off the trail. I heard them passing last night.

I'm sure you'll recall me mentioning previously what my momma told me when I was a youngster. She said, "Son, if you can't say something kind, just be quiet." So, this will be a short entry day.

I had great expectations and was much looking forward to hiking the two legs of the old Wabash Cannonball Railtrail. I had visions of it being like the Katy Trail along the Missouri, my home--crushed limestone base, strict controlled access, numerous, improved trailheads with a variety of services, from B&Bs to bike rental and repair. What I find here, however, is very different. Yesterday evening, then again this morning, I've hiked in and out of mud-clogged two-track ruts. The trail is overgrown, little or no maintenance. Sure has put me in a funk. So, at the first opportunity this morning, by a service road to a farmer's field, I turn away from the railtrail and head for busy US-20. Here I hike most the remainder of the day, through the villages of Burlington, Wauseon, Delta, and Swanton. Late evening, and at Swanton, I turn south on Wilkins Road to follow the beautiful bike paths through Oak Openings Metropark--as mapped out by Wes Boyd.

I pitch for the night by a side trail to a small cemetery plot off Jeffers Road--and proceed to arm wrestle the skeeters.

"Where the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet,
Through echoing forest and echoing street,
With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam,
All men are our kindred, the world is our home."
[Sarojini Naidu]

Thursday, June 25, 2009
Trail Day--096
Trail Mile--25.4/058/2639
Location--Napoleon

On Jeffers, just north of the southwest leg, Wabash Cannonball Railtrail, I camped last. This morning, in less than an hour, I'm heading southwest on the old grade.

Today's already shaping to be another 95-95, those numbers represent temperature and humidity. Me, my clothing, my pack, all soppin' soggy already. Not whining, folks, not whining!

This south leg of the Wabash--another sad disappointment. It's paved a for a short distance to Neapolis. So, what motorized traffic it has to bear (again there is no effort to stop the on- and off-road vehicles), I'm unable to determine. However, out of Neapolis, to the southwest, the grade turns to gravel and dirt two-track. Here, it's apparent that the railgrade is primarily used by cars, trucks, and quads. A bit of the grade here has received minimal maintenance this season, but most remains neglected and is overgrown.

This trail is called the Wabash Cannonball Railtrail. But in reality it's no more than a powerline cut with the customary, accompanying service road. I'm certainly not out here to voice criticism as to the how, why, and where this trail leads; I'm here to hike it. However, I would wager that most all long distance hikers doing these miles and miles of zig-zag, at some point along the way, begin questioning what in the world this is all about.

When my hike east was interrupted yesterday, when I turned south, then southwest, I was within 15 miles of Toledo. Why the trail doesn't continue on to Toledo, there to connect with their metro trails, and from there continue on to the north and east legs of the Buckeye Trail, and on to Pennsylvania, I have no idea. I'm sure there'd be no complaint about taking the NCT off this long powerline cut I'm now hiking.

Of course the argument would be: The trail'd miss Hocking Hills, Old Man's Cave, the Grandma Gatewood Trail--and the Waynes. So, okay, that's the rationale, that's the excuse for taking this incredible round-about segment southwest, then south, then (finally) east and north again.

Alright, lets visit this conundrum. Just take a look at how close this incredible detour takes us to the Ohio River and Kentucky. If Dayton and Cincinnati fit into this "North Country" scheme, then how could it possibly be a stretch to include some of the beautiful lands of Kentucky? Along the Ohio, there are glorious backroads, where I trekked for miles during my transcontinental odyssey. Why not take the trail there? Beats me, folks, sure beats me. Anyway, I lingered long, had second and third thoughts about heading southwest, before finally turning away from Toledo to head southwest yesterday. I guess Toledo's just not far enough north. Okay mother, okay--quit grumbling old man; hike, just hike!

The little bit of grade, the slight elevation that is the old Cannonball, was dug up and piled up from ditches created along both sides. These ditches are all overgrown with brush now, filled with stagnant water, a heavenly breeding ground for skeeters. No problem for the four-wheelers flying through, but for the poor, unsuspecting backpacker, it quickly turns to pure hell. Believe me folks, I can live with the bugs, and for whatever the duration, suffer not the least decrease in joy. But when you hear me whining like this about the bugs, you don't want to be here--you do not want to be anywhere near here!

Please forgive me for getting on this rant. For the remainder of this entry, I promise to be positive and upbeat--though it will be difficult not to talk about hiking the entire day in the wrong direction.

Just before Liberty Center the trail runs out. And in town, the grade remains active. From here I've a roadwalk down to and along the Maumee River, to Napoleon. Across the bridge I find a little mom-n-pop motel, work a hiker trash deal. In my room, I crank the air, shower the salt off my sticky body, rinse the grimy mush out of my clothes, get my feet up, and call it a day.

"Oh, listen to the jingle, the rumble and the roar
As she glides along he woodland, o'r hills and by the shore.
She climbs the flowery mountain, hear the merry hobos squall.
She glides along the woodland, the Wabash Cannonball."

[J. A. Roff]

Friday--June 26, 2009
Trail Day--097
Trail Mile--23.4/081/2662
Location--South of Defiance, thence to the home of Bill and Angie, their children, Josh and Elizabeth

I was able to get a room for the night in Napoleon. Can't remember a shower feeling so good. It's great to be clean, to be wearing clean clothes this morning. With the heat and high humidity the past number of days I've been sweat soaked the entire time. Being on the road, with every passing vehicle, especially the eighteen wheelers, the constant barrage of dust and dirt churned up, all of it was caked right to me.

I am having quite a time getting out and going today. First comes breakfast, then a trip to the post office to send home more winter gear, then to the library. I don't have my pack shouldered until nearly noon.

The exciting thing today is finally reaching the Buckeye Trail (BT), which shares its tread with the NCT for over 1,000 miles. I turn onto it at the Florida Bridge around two. Here the BT follows a towpath, the Erie, Miami, and Wabash, a shaded dirt path down to Independence Dam State Park, a beautiful linear park, lush lawns, all well groomed, a picnic table for everyone. From the park to Defiance, it's back on the road again.

Much history in Defiance, clear back to the late 1700s.

Late afternoon and I stop for supper at the little mom-n-pop cafe just before the turn on Jefferson Street. From locals at the cafe I learn there's no motel around here, at least not in the direction I'm going. None of the motels listed in Boyd's NCT Guide (now eleven years old) are in business anymore. Even the Day's Inn is shut down. So, out from the cafe, I turn on Jefferson and head back toward the trail.

A few blocks south, at a side street, a fellow is waiting to pull onto Jefferson. As I cross, down comes the passenger window and the lady asks: "Are you hiking the Buckeye Trail?"

Short of it--Bill and Angie invite me to be their guest for the night!

They've got some shopping to do. I'd like to do a few more miles. The plan to pick me up south of Defiance works and I'm soon the lucky guy on the receiving end of some mighty fine trail magic!

Bill and Angie have a lovely home. He's a chiropractor, she, a wellness educator. Both are backpackers. In the hiking world they're known as "Weekend Warriors." We've much in common, so we share a most enjoyable evening together.

But for a few seconds one way or the other, I'd never have met Bill and Angie. Ah, isn't it interesting, how the paths the Lord has set for us--lead us on. I particularly like the lighthearted:

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

[Yogi Berra]

Saturday--June 27, 2009
Trail Day--098
Trail Mile--27.0/108/2689
Location--Ottoville, then on to Delphos

Bill and Angie have six cats. Arriving their home last I was welcomed by their official greeter, Clara. Clara has known me forever. I just couldn't remember meeting her!

This morning, very early, I hear the garage door open and a vehicle leave. Bill and Angie aren't coffee people. So, to make sure I have a cup of the finest, Bill had gone out to the corner store. Upon being called to breakfast, by my place is there a brimming styro cup of steaming hot coffee. And breakfast--the eggs, brown-shelled ones, from scratch-the-ground hens. What a great way to start the day; thanks, Angie!

Before returning to his office and his busy practice (Bill keeps Saturday morning hours), and now for another of those too-familiar sad good-byes, he drops me back by the Maumee where he'd come for me last.

A very lovely city, Defiance; beautiful people, like Bill, Angie, their children, Josh, and Elizabeth. Thank you, dear new friends, for your outpouring of generosity and kindness; what a remarkable moment yesterday evening--I'll never forget-- when you chose to take me into your home and your busy lives. Both Bill and Angie someday want to hike the Appalachian Trail. I urged them to make sure and read my ditty, "One of these Days."

So again this morning, I am clean, my clothes are clean, and I'm off to another gorgeous day on the North Country National Scenic Trail along the canal towpaths of Ohio.

At Junction, another interesting site along the canal trail, like Defiance, is rich in both Indian and pioneer history. Here I hike a new, short section of tread by the towpath.

Back on the roadwalk I'm passing a farm. Fellow is mowing his yard. He stops the mower and beckons me. So, I meet Tim. When he finds I'm not only hiking the Buckeye, but also the North Country, he runs to the house to get his wife. So, I meet Angie. She's active in the Buckeye Trail Association. Her father, Jerry, was instrumental in creating, then placing the marker back at the canal junction--at Junction.

Back on the road now, and at the next crossing, comes--yup, Jerry! Angie had called to tell her father about my hike and he's right out here to greet me and to wish me well. We share a few special moments. With that far away glint, Jerry tells how, on those still, quiet nights, he can often hear the faint, far-off call of the boatmen. I tell him, how, during similar moments in time, I hear the Pipes of Pan. Comes now a firm handshake, an expression, an affirmation of understanding. Thanks Tim, Angie, Jerry; I'm the benefactor of your untiring work, your dedication, the giving of your precious time--thanks!

In Ottoville, I meet Connie. I speak about my journey. She insists on giving me money for my next stop-over. In Delphos, where I have supper, Lori, my waitress--when I speak about my journey, insists on giving me money for my meal.

"Sometimes in the evening I sit, looking out...The sun sets, and dusk steals over the water.

In the shadows I seem again to see our Indian village,

with smoke curling upward from the earth lodges,

and in the river's roar I hear the yells of warriors, and the laughter of little children as of old..."

[Waheenee, Hidatsa]

Sunday--June 28, 2009
Trail Day--099
Trail Mile--27.0/135/2716
Location--BT, Miami and Erie Canal Towpath, 40-Acre Pond, then on to New Bremen

A pleasant, cool night. I slept comfortably, very soundly, right next the towpath in downtown Delphos. I've no more than a five-minute walk back downtown to the little bakery/deli. Here, I set to draining their coffee pot while enjoying a four-egg, cheese, onion, green pepper, and ham omelet, along with hash browns, and biscuits--and more coffee.

By the pastry case, there's a small glassed-off cubicle where the baker, Alex, performs his magic. Though this is Sunday morning, and early Sunday morning no less, Alex is busy creating a cake for an infant's party. I watch, fascinated, as the masterpiece takes form right before my eyes. Alex is not only a baker extraordinaire, he's also an artist in his own right. With graceful strokes from his spray gun (liquid food coloring) he paints the most joyful and happy animal figures all around.

While he's spinning his cake, creating his work, we chat. Alex is active as a scoutmaster with the local cub pack. He enjoys the opportunity to teach kids about nature, about hiking and camping. He is taken by the account of my journey. So, a most enjoyable time--a great few moments shared. Thanks, Alex!

After my disappointment with the Wabash Cannonball Railtrail, I've made sure not to get my hopes up, not to have the least of expectations as to the Miami and Erie Canal Towpath Trail. Good thing. Heading out of Delphos this morning, through folks' backyards does this trail go. Most have mowed clear to the canal bank. And some have placed barricades. I pass a fellow fishing. He ignores me entirely. In a lady's backyard now, she turns from tending flowers, startled, to give me her best "What are you doing here!"scowl. Past the homes, the backyards, past the city, the trail/towpath now leads off through farm fields--corn, soybeans, wheat and oats, mostly. The strip of public land has been respected here, by all whose lands abuts the canal, their crops outside the boundary line. Some have mowed the grass strip. Others have not. Across the unmowed sections, the grass is tall, very coarse, difficult to walk through. Oh, appears there's been some maintenance this year, places, but scant little. The trail is not much used, certainly not by hikers. Mostly, where there's tread, it's two-track, beat down by motorized vehicles, primarily four-wheelers.

After these experiences this morning, passing where I'm not welcome, struggling the unmowed sections, I pretty much give it up and go the road, SR66, jumping back to the towpath time-to-time for the more interesting highlights, like Deep Cut and Bloody Bridge.

I've had hopes of finding a room in St. Marys. I could sure use a shower. But the motel here has (since Wes Boyd's passage) been converted to apartments, and the hotel downtown is now senior housing.

At Quick Check I go for the broasted chicken, and at Wendy's on down, a tall frosty. In New Bremen, it's dusk now as I beat it back over to the towpath, where I find a wide spot in the trail and pitch for the night.

For this odyssey, indeed, for all my journeys, as daylight comes, as sunset comes, are my days--and is my life--so managed and controlled.

"When one finally reaches the point where days are governed by daylight and dark,

rather than by schedules, where one eats if hungry and sleeps when tired,

and becomes completely immersed in the ancient rhythms,

then one begins to live."

[Sigurd Olson]

Monday--June 29, 2009
Trail Day--100
Trail Mile--25.0/185/2741
Location--BT, Miami and Erie Canal Towpath, short of Newport

Another pleasant, peaceful night on the towpath. Glad I pitched off to the side, by a wide spot. Just after first light the runners and walkers start coming through. Understandable. This section of trail has a firm gravel base, the sides mowed; it's very well maintained. If there's been motorized vehicle traffic here, it's not obvious. A good feeling, seeing trail being maintained, being used as intended.

Another cool, clear day. I get the kinks out and get moving around seven-thirty. I've a short trek down to Ft. Laramie. Here is an interesting combination: A traditional Dairy King, and a not-so-traditional Dairy King Motel; I stop for both!

A short day, but one much deserved (I believe), and certainly welcome--65 miles the last two days. Though I seem to grumble and complain, I am of good spirit, with happy heart; this is a pleasant journey, 100 days so far.

Martha, sweet owner, cuts the old Nomad a hiker trash deal. After breakfast at the local cafe/bar, she's got a room all ready for me. I'm off the trail and in by eleven!

"All paths are the same: They lead nowhere.

However, a path without a heart is never enjoyable.

On the other hand, a path with heart is easy--

it does not make a warrior work at liking it;

it makes for a joyful journey,

as long as a man follows it, he is one with it."

[Carlos Castaneda]

Tuesday--June 30, 2009
Trail Day--101
Trail Mile--23.4/208/2764
Location--Fletcher

Great little village, Ft. Loramie. There's a library, a bar that serves a super breakfast, and the post office is right off the main drag downtown. Oh, and there's the Dairy King for burgers, fries, and soft ice cream, along with the Dairy King Motel. Had a relaxing stay; thanks Martha!

A dandy morning for hiking, cool and cloudy, so 'haps the sun won't be cookin' it today.

Some roadwalk, some nice towpath, and some overgrown trail south of Lockington.

In Piqua, there's a fine bike path along the Great Miami River levee. I follow it to US-36 where I leave the BT/NCT for awhile. There's a certified section of trail from Yellow Springs to Springfield that dead ends in Springfield. It runs a fair distance, and I'd like to hike it. The way it's situated, though, makes it difficult to hike without backtracking. If I come at it from the north end it'll work. So, by hiking over to Urbana, then south from there on the Simon Kenton Trail, that'll put me on the north end of the certified section in Springfield. Problem is, I'll miss Dayton, which has some fine Metropark trail. In any regard, that's the reasoning--hope it makes sense.

I turn from the Greater Miami River in Picqua around three, to hike busy U.S-36 over to Fletcher. I'm in with lots of daylight/hiking time left, but gotta hang here for my mail drop in the morning.

Along one of the roadwalk sections today I found the largest cache of change I've ever run across--21 quarters and five dimes, all laying in a three foot area by the grass at the edge of the shoulder. Amazing, just amazing. I stood there with my mouth gaping, and just stared.

"The best things in life are unexpected - because there were no expectations"

[Eli Khamarov]

Wednesday--July 1, 2009
Trail Day--102
Trail Mile--26.2/234/2790
Location--Simon Kenton Trail, County Line Road

I found a place to pitch last in a fence thicket between a cornfield and a soybean patch about a half-mile north of Fletcher. A very pleasant night; I slept soundly.

This morning I beat it back into town a little after seven to Fletcher Pizza and Carry-Out for breakfast, where Tom fixes me a dandy four-egg omelet. I make quick work out of his coffee pot while waiting for the post office to open.

Fletcher is a mail drop. Here, I'll finally be changing entirely to my summer gear, the remaining item being my sleeping bag. I'll drop a few more ounces by going from a 32-degree to a 42-degree bag.

Great way to start this day--the box from home, my bounce box, and cards and letters, all waiting at the post office!

From here to Urbana I have a 20-mile hike on busy US-36. The day remains cloudy and cool, just perfect for hiking.

Passing through the little village of St. Paris, I stop at the cafe there for lunch. They're proud of their favorite son, Dan, who's on his second Appalachian Trail thru-hike.

Later in the afternoon I get a phone call from Brent, who lives in Dayton. He's thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, and he and his wife have hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, plus the Buckeye Trail. They'd like to come for me this evening and treat me to dinner in Springfield. Oh yes, we make the arrangements!

I also call Susan, who's the chair of the Simon Kenton Pathfinders. In just a short while, she, and Teresa and Mary come to welcome me to Urbana. The Simon Kenton folks will be having their meeting tomorrow evening and I've been invited to attend. Arrangements are made for me to be picked up at Oldtown tomorrow afternoon.

I'm hiking south on the Simon Kenton now, and at seven-thirty, up the bike path comes Brent and Amy, with their daughter, Oakley. We load and head for Springfield, where I'm treated to dinner at the Texas steakhouse. A wonderful meal--thanks dear friends!

Such a short time to spend with these kind folks as those inevitable good-byes soon come, back at Countyline Road. I'm on the trail, and they're to their long drive home.

“I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new.

Shall I not call God the beautiful, who daily showeth himself so to me in his gifts.”

[Ralph Waldo Emerson]

Thursday--July 2, 2009
Trail Day--103
Trail Mile--24.2/258/2814
Location--Buckeye Trail, Little Miami Railtrail, Oldtown

I rolled out my sleeping pad and bag right on the concrete in the corner of the pavilion. The cold rain came and went all night, but I remained warm and dry. I'm awakened by voices around six. Folks are already into their daily routine, hiking and biking the Simon Kenton Pathway. I'm out and going by seven-thirty. Still misting and it's very cool. Hard to believe, but I've got my wind jacket on.

On the eastern outskirts of Springfield the trail crosses old US-40 at Main Street. The breeze has turned to a very cold wind, and the mist has turned to rain. To get out of it, I duck into a second-hand store. I'm hoping to find a cafe somewhere near the trail, and I'm in luck. Right downtown, behind and below the tall buildings, is a neat little mom-n-pop, where I hasten for my coffee fix--and lunch.

By the time I'm back out the rain has stopped. It's only a few blocks back to the trail, which I return to, to continue my trek on the certified section between Springfield and Yellow Springs.

On a short roadwalk section I find a fine piece to add to my flatware collection. Don't believe I've ever mentioned my flatware collection. I can remember my mother and grandmother referring to silverware as flatware. Well, what I've been collecting over the years is the genuine thing--flatware. Every place setting has been totally flattened by the constant pounding from laying in the road. Interesting, and a challenge, eating with "flat" ware! Today I add another perfectly flat fork to my ever expanding collection.

I also find a penny folded completely in half. A great addition to my second, nearly full, Mason jar of coins found along the roadways over the years.

The rain has quit, turning back to a light mist as I depart Springfield. South of I-70 the day warms as the skies begin to clear--jacket comes off. Another perfect hiking day along the Little Miami Railtrail.

Arrangements having been made, and in the evening, Teresa, a member of the Simon Kenton Pathfinders who greeted me yesterday evening, comes to take me from the trail to Nancy's home near Urbana. I've time for a quick shower before Teresa loads me again and we head for the monthly meeting of the Simon Kenton Pathfinders, at the beautifully restored depot in downtown Urbana.

The meeting is well attended and I'm asked to say a few words about my NCT hike. Many questions--for the better part of a half-hour. Before I sit again, Nancy introduces me to Ruth, the Mayor of Urbana, and she presents me with a key to their city. Then Nancy has a Simon Kenton cap and T-shirt for me. A very enjoyable time. Hand out lots of cards

Frank and Nancy, and their son, Eric, have me as their guest for the night.

“Every day's a perfect gift of time for us to use.

Hours waiting to be filled in any way we choose.

Each morning brings a quiet hope that rises with the sun.

Each evening brings the sweet content that comes with work well done.”

[Unknown]

Friday--July 3, 2009
Trail Day--104
Trail Mile--26.7/285/2841
Location--Buckeye Trail, Little Miami Railtrail, Ft. Ancient SP

A fine night's rest, the guest of Nancy and Frank. I hear Nancy in the kitchen this morning and I know coffee will be ready shortly. So, I'm down way before seven. Super breakfast--sausage and cheese scramble, complete with veggies.

Nancy is a massage therapist. Her office is here in her home--separate entrance, with parking. I get the tour.

I've an appointment with photographer, Jan, and staff writer, Hanna, Dayton Daily News, so Nancy gets me loaded and back to the trail. Thanks Nancy, thanks Frank--and all dear new friends with the Simon Kenton Pathfinders!

Much time is spent with Jan, along the trail, and then with Hanna at the depot in Xenia. I'm not back hiking until after ten-thirty. A fun interview, though. The article is scheduled to appear tomorrow.

I don't recall being on a trail with so much traffic. Lots of folks out exercising, riding their bikes today; I would say hundreds. Another perfect day to be out hiking and riding.

By the time I reach Spring Valley it's after two, so I stop at the cafe there for late lunch.

Back on the trail, an old fellow, Jim, stops to find out where I'm headed. He's not in any hurry, so we chat. When I tell him I'm hiking to the Adirondacks he get this puzzled look, then tells me I'm hiking the wrong direction.

Late afternoon, early evening now, I'm sitting on the bench in front of the little convenience store in Oregonia, feeling sorry for myself. I had planned on having supper at the cafe by the trail right up--but come to find, it burned down. So, I settle for some M&Ms, party snacks, a Coke, and an ice cream cookie.

Clouds are coming in and it's beginning to look like rain. While I'm trying to decide whether to hike the three miles on to Ft