2013 Following Atticus Gratitude Hike: The Trail and the Trek

My backpack with "Virtual FA Hikers" in tow

Arriving at the trailhead in our caravan of cars, we excitedly embarked on our journey. I don't know exactly what time it was when we got started, but I suspect we started later than planned. It was probably sometime after 10 am. The weather was cloudy but mild, ideal really. We wouldn't have to worry about sunburn on the summit for one thing, and the foliage against a grey background made it even more vivid. I discovered when I arrived in the White Mountains on Friday that the area has its own weather system. All day long throughout New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, and part of New Hampshire it had rained almost continually. I wondered how the rain would affect our hike, or if it would postpone it until Sunday. But as soon as the White Mountains came looming into view, the weather changed. It was cloudy but dry. It had not rained here. And, other than a few sprinkles, it did not rain until Sunday thankfully.

The sky seemed a bit gloomy, but the participants were not. Just the opposite. Everyone was full of smiles and excitement. Susan donned a crazy warm hat and made everyone laugh, Russ and his antics and stories provided entertainment all day. I was still "one notch below panic mode" in my inner being due to my nervous temperament but this quest to conquer my self-limiting lifestyle had to be accomplished. I had to "get comfortable with discomfort" and realize that I was "exactly where I was supposed to be." I tried not to fret about my "bad hair day" or not being able to wear the new powder blue in-remembrance-of-my-father fleece jacket I bought for the occasion because it was too warm and I could not fit it in my backpack. I could have worn the cute grey running jacket I did pack, but instead I wore my drab, old, but lightweight and comfy black running jacket that I could easily tie around my waist as I got sweaty. But everyone had cameras and they were snapping pictures. I dread being in pictures. I am not photogenic and am overly self-conscious. I really need to get over myself, and I tried on this trip, somewhat successfully. Michael kindly adjusted my backpack for me, which was sitting too low on my back. It felt much more comfortable higher, but still felt heavy. I had prepared for the hike by wearing the hiking boots on Indiana trails, and wearing a backpack with a few items thrown in for my 2 hour walks, but I had not loaded up the backpack with all the gear I would bring and gotten used to the weight. I discovered that fitness for one sport does not necessarily prepare you to be fit for another. I could run (jog) easily for miles, but climbing a steep hill that keeps going up, up, up relentlessly with a heavy pack on my back, over treacherous roots and rocks was another thing altogether. I was grateful for those who offered to carry my pack part of the way when they saw me struggling. Without the pack it wasn't hard to climb, but with it was a challenge. I was huffing some, needed to rest at times, and got tired. Occasionally I felt a little dizzy and disoriented which surprised me, but I hadn't had much breakfast. I was glad when we stopped for lunch along the way. I enjoyed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and the very special sweet bread Jenn shared with us. Donna Jean shared homemade chocolate/peanut butter buckeyes with everyone, and the camaraderie between us all was wonderful.

One of my fondest memories along the trail is of Tom reaching out a hand to assist me over the rocky places. Another great memory is of Atticus leading the way in front of us, stopping at a large boulder, and turning his head to look at me. I wondered if I should help him. Tom was behind me and asked Atticus if he needed a boost. Tom gave Atti a helping hand and got him up on that large rock, and he merrily proceeded on his own from there. That was the only time I saw that Atticus needed a boost, as difficult as the terrain was becoming. What a trooper! He seemed to be feeling well in spite of what he has been through with the cancer treatments. It was heartwarming to witness the bond between Tom and Atticus. Best friends forever! I was delighted that Atticus seemed to like me too. I am not particularly a "dog person" and was not gushy with affection towards him. I did not have pockets full of treats as did others. But Atticus M. Finch seemed to give me his stamp of approval and accepted me into his discriminating circle of friends. He gave me a memorable gift, a poignant display of his uniqueness, when he came near me on the summit of his own volition and then hopped up right behind me onto a boulder to "summit sit" and gaze at the view. I won't forget that moment.

I never heard a sound from Atticus. He does not bark or whine. He speaks with his eyes and with his "smile". He is otherwise "all business"...a very serious, pensive soul. I've never met anyone like him of any species. It is hard to think of him as a dog. Sure, he's a canine, but he is more than that. It is hard to explain or fathom. I once enjoyed a special bond with an Appaloosa horse named Tandi in my youth. This horse was "more than a horse" to me. He was my special friend and we communicated in a special way, soul to soul. I never knew another horse like him either. It is a rare and precious thing to bond with someone in this way, whether man or beast. (Sometimes I'm not sure which species is the beast!)

I traveled the trail with various walking partners from time to time. The trail started out very scenic and easy to traverse for about a mile or so. I found it very easy going, and Tom remarked about how fast I was covering ground. I was in my element on this portion of the trail. I enjoyed chatting with Russ and others along the way, and especially enjoyed just being with my daughter in the great outdoors. There was pretty foliage, soft pine needles on the forest floor, a scenic bridge over a rocky stream, a fairly wide path that went up and down and around. I was just loving this trail.....but then it got steep. We got to the "mountain climbing" portion. It got so difficult in places that I wondered why Tom had brought us here. What was he thinking? What if these rocks and roots were wet. We would be in peril. Injuries would likely occur amongst us newbies. Even the experienced hikers were relating injury stories. One had fallen recently and hit his head on the rocks, bleeding. This was dangerous, rugged mountain climbing! No wonder Tom had asked that those not up to hiking a mountain not participate. He wanted to show some people what he experiences in these mountains, and it was supposed to be for those who could handle it. What was I doing here, I wondered? What were some of the others doing here who had physical limitations, bad knees, etc. And one was a smoker who had to refrain from smoking all day! Tom had expected some wouldn't make it all the way to the summit. He thought some would rest at a lower elevation, still getting some nice views, and wait for the others to ascend to the summit and return, joining us on the way back. I thought I'd be one of those waiting at a lower elevation. But there were experienced hikers urging us "onward, by all means." We heard "hiker fibs" (as it turned out) that we were "almost there," "just a little further," "right around the next bend." We pressed on, and somehow, slowly but miraculously, we ALL ended up on the Summit.

Summit City?

By this time I was exhausted. I just wanted to sit down and rest. The 360 degree view was spectacular. I wandered around the large rocky summit in awe. The sky was a serious looking grey, although the sun broke through briefly. There was a message in it, but I didn't know what it was. It put me in a somber mood briefly. I asked the LORD, "Why am I here? What is the message?" I had brought a very special little Gideon's New Testament/Psalms that Denise had brought home from school in 5th grade, and I had planned to pull it out of my backpack and read a psalm and spend some quality time with God on top of the mountain (if I made it to the top). But the frivolity of such a large number of people up there did not lend itself to the occasion. Besides our group, many others had made the climb, some with large dogs, including a couple of Chows. I was worried for Atticus when they came along, but there were no dog fights thankfully. There were groups of young people in sandals being silly and foolish, one doing cartwheels up there, and other distractions. Plus, everyone had a camera, and I didn't want to make a spectacle of myself by reading the Bible and maybe being a photo op for someone. I regret my decision though. I should have found a quiet place alone somewhere and did what I set out to do. I don't have the answers yet to my questions, and I missed a potentially meaningful spiritual encounter with the Living God.

I have no idea what time it was when we were ready to descend the mountain after our group photo, or how long it had taken us to make it to the top. The sign at the trailhead stated the distance to the top was 2.7 miles. I could have traversed a flat trail in less than an hour, but it probably took us 3 hours to do this one with all our stops, waiting for others to catch up, and catching our own breath. It was both harder and easier on the descent. Harder, because we had to watch our step very carefully, sometimes walking on sheer rock, sometimes traversing treacherous loose rocks and roots. Again, Tom reached out a hand to help me. He did this for others as well. I was praying that no one would get hurt. It was easier, though, on the downgrade, because we weren't huffing and puffing as on the ascent. And it took less time with fewer stops along the way. I spent most of the time with my new friend Donna Jean from Ohio, the smoker. I had to give her credit for her tenacity in doing this. She is an incredible woman, witty, warm, and personable. We got along well. It started to get darker along the trail and I remembered that darkness descends on the forest before more open places. Would we make it to the trailhead before nightfall? I hoped so. We did not hear anyone up ahead and didn't know how far we were from the others ahead of us. At one point we wondered if we were lost because the trail started going uphill again. I hadn't remembered that the terrain varied like that. But there didn't seem to be any other trail that we could have veered off on so we kept going. Others were quite a ways behind us and I feared some would not make it back before dark. I prayed for them and hoped they remembered to bring flashlights or headlamps. I knew experienced hikers would have been with the slow ones, but I wasn't sure which ones they were. I knew Tom and Atticus were well ahead of us somewhere. Donna Jean and I joked that we would have been satisfied with a short walk on the easy stretch of trail to the scenic bridge and back. Why did he have to take us all the way to the top of a difficult mountain to climb? We were getting very tired at this point and a little nervous about being alone in the forest as night descended. We were not completely alone, as another small group was behind us a little ways. As it turned out, Tom and Denise arrived at the parking lot only 3 minutes before we did, but at the time we felt alone. It was nice to be "alone" though. I noticed more about the scenery than on the way up. It was very beautiful and peaceful in these woods. We stopped on the scenic bridge for a bit. I had hardly remembered it. I must have been engaged in frivolous conversation at the time. I remember Russ and I and some others were sharing stories about our pets from our hippie days, including reminiscing about my cat Osley who was thrown off the top of a 5 story building by a crazed hippie on LSD. He had 3 broken legs and a broken nose, but Angell Memorial had fixed him up and he survived.

Finally we arrived back at the trailhead at dusk. We were never so glad to see a parking lot. The others were milling about talking about the need to change the dinner reservation to an hour later. I had not planned to attend the dinner anyway. I knew it would be too ambitious to expect anything out of me after the hike than a quick bite to eat and an early bedtime. Some had to leave to get ready for the dinner at the Thompson House Eatery, but some of us remained to wait for the other hikers.

Atticus was sleeping in the front seat of Tom's car. I joined him in the back seat using my backpack for a pillow. I was so tired...and cold. I see why we needed to bring additional clothing. After sunset, the temperature dropped significantly. I wished I had been able to pack my fleece jacket, but my grey one over my little black jacket sufficed, along with my winter hat. I got to watch Atticus drink water from his cup in the cupholder and mentioned to Tom that he needed more. I prayed that the others would make it back okay and was gratified to hear the sound of applause and praise from Tom and the others when they did make it out safely after dark. What a day! What an adventure! What an accomplishment for us all! We got into our cars and traveled back to Jackson. We had to make a stop at Rachael's house to pick up Will, and I was thrilled that Tom chose to put him on my lap in the back seat. At one point, Will snuggled with his face in my armpit. Sweetest dog I ever met.

Finally we got back to the Inn. I realized that I was feeling very comfortable and that the nervous "one notch lower than panic mode" feeling had dissipated somewhere along the trail. It had been a day of transformation. In spite of the difficulties, or maybe because of them, I had conquered a mountain in more ways than one.

View from South Moat Mountain on 10/5/13

2013 Following Atticus Gratitude Hike: Breakfast at RiverWood Inn

I got a good night's sleep, after not sleeping much the night before, but 5:00 am came quickly and I climbed out of bed. I felt like a little girl getting out of this antique twin bed because it was so high. The bedding was luxurious, the comforter soft. Denise slept soundly in the other bed. I peeked out of the blind and all was dark outside. My usual practice at home is to spend the first hour of the day with the LORD, reading the Bible and writing in my journal. I had to rush this special time and just read one chapter instead of three. I happened to be in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) in my thru-the-Bible reading. I thought about how often Yeshua (Jesus) resorted to mountain settings. I thanked the LORD for my safe arrival in NH and prayed for safety for everyone and a good day on the mountain. A quick shower came next, and then the decisions. What to wear, what to bring. Denise and I hardly had room to turn around because we both brought huge suitcases, not knowing what kind of weather we would face. As it turned out, neither of us used 90% of what we brought. We definitely overpacked! The weather was pretty mild. I couldn't decide if I should wear the hiking pants or the hiking shorts, so I wore both. I figured if it got too warm, I could shed a layer. I started stuffing my small backpack with extra socks, clothes, hat, gloves, sunglasses, headlamp, flashlight, rain jacket, fleece jacket, Bible, etc. and then wondered how I was going to fit my two 32 oz bottles of water in there, along with my 24 oz Camelbak water bottle. Tom had told us we needed to bring plenty of water. He brings 100 oz in a bladder type Camelbak. And where was I going to get the water? This was a bed and breakfast and the hosts were busy preparing breakfast for us all. We ended up filling our bottles from the small bathroom sink. The water was cold, mountain water that tasted great thankfully. My two large Nalgene bottles fit in the side pockets of the backpack. I ended up carrying the smaller Camelbak and sipping it throughout the hike. It turned out I didn't need this much water and it really weighed me down. But dehydration is a danger on mountain hikes so better safe than sorry.

I could not believe how fast time was flying on this entire trip! What I thought was efficiency, getting ready for the day, turned into a mad rush as other hikers started arriving downstairs for the group breakfast. I met Laura first, on the porch, and introduced myself. It was neat to recognize "strangers" from our private facebook page. We had all gotten somewhat acquainted beforehand. So the greetings between us were comfortable and not awkward. As more and more hikers arrived though, it became a buzz of activity and excitement. Some brought gifts for everyone, thoughtful little bags of goodies. I was overwhelmed by it all. I hadn't been so thoughtful to even think of bearing gifts, other than the trinket for Tom that we all brought for the basket we would present to him. Mine was a Culver Academies soft beach towel with flowers on it. I thought of it as a "Will blankie" knowing Will liked flowers. I had also purchased funky blue plastic sunglasses with flowers on them in honor of Will, who likes flowers. Of course he can only smell them, not see them, but it was my way of thinking of him, the dog I admired as an overcomer. I needed to be an overcomer also, in many aspects of my life, especially when it came to leaving my comfort zone and normal routine and embarking on this road trip and adventure of a lifetime.

I met Roy, the local radio personality, and asked him to remind me to change into my hiking shoes before we left, as I was wearing my regular running shoes for breakfast and did not want to end up on the mountain rocks without the right gripping soles. He joked that he would be sure to take on that responsibility of reminding me. I never know what I'm going to say to people. Sometimes I'm shy, sometimes I'm too bold.

I met so many people that morning it was confusing to keep their names straight in my mind and where they were from and their stories from facebook. I was getting one mixed up with another. Finally we all sat down to breakfast. It was fancy. A pineapple and rice concoction, and a quiche in a fluted cup. I should have mentioned beforehand that I don't eat ham/bacon, but the question had been "do you have any food allergies." The coffee was in a french press and very good. Tom was presented with a walking stick that Michael had carved all of our names into along with a picture of Atticus and the map logo from the book. It was beautiful. Such a great moment. The new "mystery hiker" sat at my table. Her name was Jenn, from Worcester, MA, and she was a great addition to the group.

We were presented with lovely gift bags from Tom and our Gratitude Hike t-shirts. Many of us decided to wear our beautiful shirts, including me. One of the gifts Tom gave me was a writing journal. I will treasure it. He is the most thoughtful man I've ever met. The beautiful sunflower design gift bag included an autographed White Mountain map like the one that appears in the book, fancy chocolate from the Bavarian Chocolate Haus (the chocolate dog bone was cute!), blueberry jelly, hiker keychain, scenic calendar, MountainEar Magazine, and a Mountain Wanderer hiking hat (which I wore). Someone gave me a button/ribbon representing the virtual hikers from the FA page that we were taking up the mountain with us. I attached it to my backpack. Was it Erica who gave me this? It was a blur of excitement and activity at the Inn that morning and my recollections are jumbled. Everyone was milling about outside enjoying Will and Atticus, taking photos, having conversations. I was too busy to socialize much, trying to get myself ready. I remembered my hiking shoes, decided I had no room for the fleece jacket and packed a lighter one, and wore my little black running jacket over my base layer shirt and the Gratitude Hike shirt. It was time to get in some cars and follow Tom to The Local Grocer where several would pick up their lunches. I brought two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I made in my room very quickly. We also needed to stop at the Vet (Rachael) to drop off Will for the day. I got to ride with Tom and Denise, Will and Atticus! How special was that! Both dogs rode up front with Denise, but I got to hold Will on my lap on the way home. And then it was off to the trailhead at South Moat Mountain!

......to be continued

2013 Following Atticus Gratitude Hike: The Road Trip

Written from a rustic cabin at Pokagon State Park, Angola, IN on Thursday morning, October 10.....


This is my attempt to write and sort out my thoughts from the incredible vacation I have just experienced. When was the last time I had a real vacation? Never? This is a first for me in so many ways. My first road trip on my own. My first hike in the mountains. My first time doing something special as a mother/daughter duo.

The driving the first day was grueling. A little homesick through Indiana as I left, boring through Ohio, stressful through Cleveland, pleasant through the southern tier of New York, but arriving later than anticipated at my hotel in Johnson City. It was dark by then, almost 8:30. I had to drive about 2 hours in the dark through construction and unfamiliar busy roads at rush hour while tired and uncomfortable from sitting too long. The Red Roof Inn was very nice, but I got lost looking for some place to eat. I was shaking and terrified as I got all turned around in a strange city and did not know how to get back to my hotel. I had to stop at a gas station (twice) and kind people helped me find my way. By then I just went to bed hungry without dinner but too nervous to eat anyway. I ate a dry piece of rye bread from the loaf I brought with me to ward off hunger pangs. This was not at all how I envisioned my first night away from home. I felt a little homesick and strange in the hotel by myself. My plan to tour the historic carousel in the park and walk on a nature trail did not happen due to the time constraints. Nor did a nice meal at the end of the day's journey transpire. I have since determined that 500 miles would have been enough distance for the day for me and that 640 was way too ambitious. But I had no choice really, unless I would have left the day before.

The next morning I was still nervous, and when I couldn't find my cosmetic bag I had a panic attack. I was crying and convinced that my brain was not capable of handling this trip since I forgot to pack something. [I subsequently found the missing bag.] I really had not had time to prepare for the trip as well as I wanted to. This whole thing was too much for me I determined. I tried to convince myself I had accomplished something by getting as far as I did and intended to just turn around and go home. But the thought of driving through Cleveland dissuaded me. I did not feel up to that either. I tried to calm down, I prayed, I thought about how I needed to be in New Hampshire for Denise's sake, how disappointed she would be if I backed out, and how I had known I was supposed to be there on this hike. I had to do this. But how? I thought of the Following Atticus mantra, "Onward, by all means!" One foot in front of the other. Face my fears. Don't retreat. I can do all things through Moshiach, who strengthens me. "I'll just take one step at a time," I thought. "I'll drive to the traffic light where I messed up last night, I'll turn right, and I'll go to the grocery store/cafe that I had planned on in the first place. I'll get a cup of coffee and figure it out from there."

Even this turned out to be a challenge, as the entrance was confusing and hard to see in the dark. But I made it. I got a coffee and an egg and cheese muffin. Taking care of my nutritional needs helped. I get "crazy" when my blood sugar level drops too low, and snacks don't help. I need protein. [Now that I reflect on this, I had not eaten much of anything the entire day. My "panic attacks" were due to hypoglycemia.]

Back to level-headedness, I felt ready to embark on the next phase of the journey. I left Johnson City, NY about 7:30 am, and the drive to Albany NY was pleasant enough although it was raining, but only occasionally did it rain hard. I was praying and listening to Yaacov Shwekey. The Collection CD comforted me throughout the trip and became my primary music. I also listened to Tom Rush and Dave Van Ronk and the audio version of Following Atticus. I laughed out loud at some of the stories Tom told. I felt like I was getting to know Tom through listening to him read his book. I paid more attention to details than I had in reading the paperback version, before I knew I would meet the author.

It was still raining in Albany so I decided it was too challenging to try to get to Vermont from there following the confusing Mapquest route. I stayed on the Mass Pike instead. Entering Massachusetts I realized this was the first time in my whole life I had driven back to my home state. I had mixed feelings about being there. I liked the scenery, especially in the Berkshires, but there is something oppressive about the State of Massachusetts that I sense. I just have never had a peace about being there for some reason. Spiritually it is not compatible with my soul or psyche. Except for my beloved Blue Hills where I used to ride horses. Maybe I've always been a "mountain girl" or at least a "forest girl".

I took 91 north, and the sun came out briefly in Northampton MA, but most of the trip was cloudy or rainy. I wondered if it would be raining in the White Mountains and if we would get to hike or not, or if we did, would the rocks be slippery.

Vermont was beautiful, with peak foliage, gently rolling hills, and postcard pretty farms dotting the landscape. I got within a few miles of Groton, where I spent time as a child with the Fergusons, but I did not have time for the planned side trip there. This whole journey was taking far more time than anticipated. I had hoped to arrive in Jackson, NH around 3-4 pm., but it was looking like a 6 pm. arrival time. I tried not to stress about it, realizing I would have little time/energy to get ready for the hike the following morning.

Crossing into New Hampshire, I wondered why I was traveling all this way to see the Autumn scenery. Sure, it was beautiful, but I enjoy Indiana's understated beauty and pretty fall colors. What was the big deal about New England? Suddenly the White Mountains came looming into view. I said, "Wow!" That's all I could say. I was humbled in my thoughts. There was something majestic about these mountains. They were much higher, rockier, bare on top, imposing. The word "grandeur" came to mind. I didn't care for all the touristy stuff I was passing along the highway, but the mountains themselves were a draw. The foliage seemed almost a bit past peak here, about 20 miles north of Jackson, but when I got to Jackson, it was perfect. Tom had picked the right weekend. I arrived at the RiverWood Inn about 6 pm. and hoped to freshen up and change clothes before meeting people, but as soon as I got out of the car, Tom and Denise pulled in. Oh well, I wasn't ready, felt grungy, but it was great to see Denise, and Tom made me feel at ease. I liked him right away.

Our tiny room with high, antique beds was very nice. It was pretty cramped with all our suitcases and gear though. Denise and Tom went out to eat. I was invited but declined, choosing to finish my subway sandwich in my room and try to relax a little. Relaxation was impossible as the time sped past. I wasn't ready for this hike. I did not know what to pack in my backpack. It was all happening too fast. It was dark before I could even wander the grounds down by the Wildcat Creek as planned. That experience would have to wait. I went to sleep, setting my alarm for 5 am so I could read my Bible, take a shower, and pack up for the hike before the breakfast at 7:30. I thought I had plenty of time. I didn't. It was a mad rush in the morning.

....to be continued.