To Bee a Flip Flop
tales of
the Sparkle Chasing Mountain Mermaid
called Neck Knife
Approaching Mama K
in Flip Flops
September 3, 2020
Written on day 105, at mile 1,167
(No, I did not summit Katahdin in flip flops… but I sure as shit didn’t do it in hiking boots 😘)
Have you ever been so in the groove and excited about something, that you forgot there was a goal involved? Yeah, same. While Katahdin (aka Mama K) is just a halfway point for my hike, it definitely snuck up on me and reminded me that this adventure will eventually end..… ahh. *insert every cliche about journey vs. destination here*
A little reminder, I am taking a slightly less common route called a flip-flop. I will cover all 2,193 miles of the trail, but I did the second-half first and northbound and will do the first-half second and southbound. I started in West Virginia, hiked north to Katahdin in Maine, and now I am going back to West Virginia to hike south to Springer in Georgia. So, don’t let me confuse you, I still have a lot more hiking to do, 1,026 miles to be exact.
That being said, most of the people I was hiking around for my first half were NOBOs, meaning northbound from Georgia to Maine. As they approached their finish line, the energy in the air was a bit confusing. There was a mixture of being ready to finish, not wanting to finish, being tired, being excited... just a lot of emotion and it was really hard to not pick up on that. So, as a still energized flip-flopper with half of my hike left, I pulled back a bit, or rather pushed forward and spent most of Maine hiking solo. While there were so many friends I wanted to see finish, I needed to focus on my hike and go my own pace.
There are many different ways to approach this trail. The most common route is a northbound hike starting in Georgia, then there’s the southbound hike starting in Maine, then there are many different types of flip-flops. Among the routes, there are people who hike 30+ miles a day, people who hike 10 miles a day, people who take zeros once a week, people who have no consistency whatsoever, people who are ‘purists’ meaning they have to walk every single step of the trail (for example, some trails to camp have two entrances, a purist would make sure to go out the exact way they came in as to not miss any part of the trail), people who slack-pack as much as possible, people who run and focus on making miles and time, people who smoke weed all day and just cruise. Everyone has their own approach and it’s really fascinating. Personally, it’s easy for me to be influenced by others and I’ve had to continue to remind myself of my goals and how I want my hike to go. I am trying to let go of my competitive side and pay more attention to the trees, flowers, critters, and neat rocks, more than the miles or my time. I am trying to let go of routine and expectation, live in the moment, and maintain my self care by eating well, stretching, journaling, and swimming whenever I can. While the social scene on the trail is definitely unique, and I love to socialize, one of my biggest struggles thus far has been trying not to get too caught up in it.
Some fun facts about trail you probably wouldn’t expect
I fall all the time. Like all the time. I am covered in bruises. “Bruises, bug bites, and body hair” is the current bio for my dating profile. I fall on slippery planks into bogs of mud. I fall down rock faces, usually onto my back and have even mastered the bounce back up, if I land on the perfect spot of my pack. But I have fallen on my back and been stuck like a turtle if my pack is too heavy. I stub my toes on roots all the time. I knee logs on a daily basis. Sometimes I go to grab a tree that looks stable and find out its dead, ending up on the ground. Falling has become very normal.
My weight goes up and down a lot. I gain 5 to 10 pounds on a zero in town, then lose it in 2 or so days.... my body has transitioned to storing energy for when I’m on the trail. It’s really interesting.
There is a fair amount of partying on trail. No, not everyone is as debaucherous as me and my friends, but I think people assume we’re all healthy and fit, when the reality is most people survive off of beer, weed, and candy bars.
The social scene is a lot like high school. People like to label one another to their stereotypes- there are the serious hikers who follow the rules aka the narcs, the pot heads, the jocks, etc. etc., there is judging and gossiping, we write messages to each other in log books, some people (definitely not me…..) tag shelters. It’s silly and fun, as I am way more comfortable with myself now than I was in high school and there aren’t many authority figures to piss off.
I talk to my parents every day, often multiple times a day. They’re the two people that will always be excited about the stupid shit I get excited about. For example: If I accidentally hike a 20 mile day ‘cause I am feelin’ myself, I call my dad to brag and he is stoked! If I meet someone really cool on trail or in town, I call my mom and tell her all about the exchange and she is stoked! And I tell them where I sleep every night. Yes, I am the only person on trail who calls their parents this much…
Independence and self sufficiency is definitely needed for this hike, but also a fair amount of accepting and relying on the kindness of strangers. Hitchhiking, trail angels with snacks and water, showers, and more hitchhiking. There are so many people along this trail that give back to the hikers, it’s really special.
A few animal facts I have learned along the way; porcupines climb trees, squirrels make very scary noises, and moose WILL charge (more on this later).
I still have not found clear classifications for the differences between streams, creeks, and brooks.
I crossed the border into Maine on August 6th, after stumbling upon an old plane crash from the 1950s on the side of Mt. Success (if there hadn’t been casualties, I would make a joke about that, but 2 people didn’t make it, so I will refrain). The crash site was really spooky.. but really neat.. and really spooky. I was happy to find some of my friends already there when I arrived.
The second day in Maine, I hiked with other people! I usually hike alone, even if I am around friends. I like to be in the quiet and go my own pace, which is not consistent as I stop to look at flowers and mushrooms often and prefer to power up big climbs. Anyway, this day was special, we were going through the Mahoosuc Notch! The Mahoosuc Notch is a mile long section of trail in a deep gap of the Mahoosuc Mountain Range. While its elevation is basically flat, the gap is filled with giant boulders that make it technical to maneuver through. So some of the lurkers decided to do it together, and I am so happy we did. It was a blast!!!! Rock scrambles make me happy, and so does giggling and getting stuck in caves with friends. Everyone says this is “the hardest mile of the AT”, I thought it was the most fun.
I was very full and tired from all the celebrating that went on while being in my home state. I pulled away and got a bit more introverted, as I really needed a physical and mental reset, and wow was Maine perfect for that. The terrain was much more forgiving, there were some big climbs but it was mellow for the most part. There were SO many ponds, most of them were so big I would have considered them lakes. Many of the ponds had canoes, too! (I am not sure who put them there…) X and I had a few days together before I ended up losing everyone. I miss that girl so much. But my body wanted bigger miles and my mind was appreciating the alone time, so I pushed on toward the big K.
X climbing her way through the Notch!
Still a lush green trail
Midday beach break 🌞
View from the Bigelows
So much water
X took me on a sunset cruise before we parted ways ❤️
I entered the 100 mile wilderness on August 22nd, after a zero at Shaw’s Hostel in Monson. Shaw’s is the last resupply before a very isolated 100 mile stretch of trail. That and the fact that the hostel is run by an awesome power couple, Poet and Hippie Chick, make it a necessary stop. I regrouped, hung out with some old friends, and set out into the 100 mile with a 42 pound pack, which had 8 days worth of food!
The 100 mile is a very notable section of trail. The terrain is really gentle, considering what New Hampshire puts you through, and there is a ton of water, cascading rivers and ponds galore. It’s also the last stretch before Katahdin. I was really excited. I think one of the best things for me, was that the cell service was spotty and if I wanted my battery to last to the other side (for pictures and videos), I had to leave it in airplane mode for a week (yes, I am still on my phone too much, even though I live in the woods).
In addition to my ever-running internal monologue, I had a very entertaining week. I believe I experienced the most memorable night of my life on night 2. It was a long day of climbing the 4 Chairback Mountains, not crazy hard climbs, but 4 back to back. I made it to camp at sunset, a stealth campsite at East Chairback pond. I was relieved to arrive, I was out of water and went right to the pond. While I was filling up my bottles, I heard the sound I had been waiting months for, a moose!! I was SO excited. I spent the rest of the daylight watching the moose play in the pond, about 100 yards away from me. The sun went down and I ate dinner listening to the moose. I was so happy. I got in my tent to set up my bed, and as I did, I heard the moose get out of the water, at my camp….. Not totally knowing how close the moose was, I poked my head out of my tent to assess the situation, with my headlamp on, like a dumbass. The moose was about 20 yards from me and we locked eyes. I froze, not knowing what to do, not wanting to turn off my light in fear of not being able to see where it was….. Wellllll the stare off lasted about 10 seconds and then the moose charged me in my tent, like a sitting duck. The moose slipped on the tyvek I had outside my tent, tripped on the lines that hold my tent up, I screamed bloody murder and dove, taking my collapsing tent with me. I watched the moose leap over my head (I am assuming it got spooked by the obstacles stated earlier). Then I heard it run off into the pond and away. I got my moose sighting and then some. The honeycomb (my tent) and I were left untouched, though Mr. Moose did kick some pine needles in my tequila… I spent the remainder of Maine NOT wanting to see a moose, haha. The rest of the week was spent dodging hail storms, swimming in rivers, and dancing along a very flat and beautiful trail.
View from the Goose Eye
Bug friend
View from my bedroom window 🥰
Wet trees
There was a bog filled with carnivorous plants!!
happy me 👋🏽
Lurking for a moose
Hey, another pond!
Misty forest
Mama K. Ohhhhh Mama K. Katahdin is such a majestic mountain. The mountain stands alone in the horizon and calls to you the moment you see it. The weather hadn’t been great and the forecast wasn’t great, as Hurricane Laura was rolling through the east coast. I’ve never had a storm named after me! I took this as a good sign and made the decision to summit on the 30th. The storm was supposed to hit the 29th and clear by morning…….
The night before felt like Christmas Eve. I went to bed at 7:30 because I was just too excited and wanted it to be tomorrow already! When I called my dad at 9 the next morning to tell him I was on trail and already a 3rd of the way up, we were both shocked, as I usually hit trail around 10 or 11. I was energized, excited, and a little chilly, I flew up the mountain. When I got above treeline, I could really feel how windy it was, 45+ mph winds I later found out. The climb gets very technical, I was on all fours for a lot of it, and in some parts there was rebar to hold onto as there were no rock holds. Exhilarated is an understatement, terrified is maybe an exaggeration….. but probably a place in between those. Thrilled. My adrenaline was pumping. Then it started to rain. It was very dramatic! I was having a shit ton of fun. I was laughing out loud about the absurd wind and the intensity Hurricane Laura decided to bring me. I was belting Bohemian Rhapsody the entire way, “Mamaaaa, ooh ooooh”. The second I made it to the summit sign, it started down pouring and I just melted. The emotions were overwhelming, and I cried and laughed and cried. It was weird. It wasn’t the end for me, but it felt like an end. The end of my northbound adventure, the end of the Wanderlurkers, the end of part 1. It was powerful.
Day 101, Mile 1,167
I had the intention of taking the Knife Edge trail down, but the weather did not allow, so I took the easiest and fastest way. Mom and Dad were waiting in the parking lot. We cried, ate food, drank champagne, and I told them about my newfound fear of moose.
They drove me back to Manchester, where I have been staying at my sister Sara, and her beyoncé, Neil’s house. There’s been a lot of logistics to figure out, like how I am getting back to Harpers Ferry to start my southbound, gear swaps and resupplies, that I have yet to fully process all the emotions. I guess that’ll have to wait ‘til trail. It’ll be a total of 5 days off trail, on day 3 now and I’m already dying to get back. I am eager to set new goals and am really happy that this flip-flop route is providing me a chance to reset and almost start over. I intend to make this second half last as long as the weather allows.
Off to the South!!