The twelfth installment of the Unknown Territory Video Blog.
Check back soon for a new installment and follow along with the adventures of a lawyer, an Ivy grad, and a city chick.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
One Month in the Making
Written by: Brandon "Monkey" Imp
Ugh.
It's 11:22 a.m. on September 12th. At 11:22 a.m. on August 12th, I was in the midst of an insane rock climb up Mt. Katahdin. I was hoisting, I was scraping, I was sweating, and I was emotionally confused. Ringleader and I summited on August 12th, but we were emotionally drained from the unprecedented stresses of family, tourists, and the end of a 5-month adventure. Many thru-hikers say their summit day is one of the best days of their life; it's logical, but I think August 11th served a little better.
We were on a tight schedule. Some of our last days on the trail were marathon days; August 11th was a 21 mile day, and I remember every moment. We woke up on the trail in our busted tent to the sound of TP's voice, "I thought it was you guys getting in after dark last night." TP! We love TP! Ringleader got a 30-second conversation with her at the end of our marathon days in Virginia, but I hadn't seen her since Hot Springs. For months we were anywhere from 10 days to 1 day behind her - and our last day, we finally saw one of our first friends on the AT. She looked good and (we could tell, although she probably would not admit it) she was extremely happy to see us one last time. It was great closure.
After an extended two-hour morning, we set off on our 21 mile day. We were finally leaving the 100-mile wilderness and were making our way for The Birches campground in Baxter State Park. We chatted. We soaked it all in. We crossed paths with a few south-bounders and flip-floppers (including a sweet older woman who was convinced Ringleader's name was Almost There...). Finally, after a painful amount of miles across roots, we came to the last shelter in the 100-mile wilderness. The shelter journal was out of paper, so we wrote on the back cover. Little did we know this would be the last shelter journal we would write in...
Two minutes later we stopped at the Abol Bridge convenience store. Kate downed orange soda, myself a large helping of Gatorade, and a bag of Cheetoh's Corn Puffs between us. The well pump was being fixed by a couple of old men (coffee in one hand, a wrench in the other). While we waited for the fresh water (our filter was broken), a family arrived. "Do you know our son? My brother? My boyfriend? Oh, we have to use his trail name - Felo!" Of course we knew Felo, a new thru-hiker friend we had met only 2-3 weeks before. We talked for 45 minutes with his family, who were planning on intersecting him at the Abol Bridge and then hike Katahdin with him the following day. In a way, meeting Felo's family gave us a wake-up call - these people, your loved ones, will come from great distances to support you because they are so proud of your accomplishment. Our mom and dad were on their way to Baxter for the same reason.
Over the next hour I gave a confessional. I grew antsy within my talk, anxious to get to camp and upset that the setting sun through the trees kept dancing shadows across my face. Felo passed us in that time, and Ringleader promised we would see him tonight. Finally, we left. It was 7 p.m. and getting dark. We began with a quick walk. We rock-hopped two streams (in any other year they would have been tough fords). We were getting jittery. Then, out of nowhere, a sign. 2 miles left! More signs, with positively minute numbers on each one! That's when we started running. Running running running through the woods, yelling, screaming, making all kinds of noises, monkey and ape noises, panting, heavy breathing. Our packs were still heavy on our emaciated bodies, so the running gradually became intermittent sprints. Once, Ringleader yelled, "We got this!" and she took off sprinting. But, her trekking pole got stuck in some roots as she took off and she left it behind! Hahaha. I picked it up and passed it back, but the next 15 minutes of running included a mixture of gut-hurting laughter and gasping for breath.
By the time we got to the next road, it was dark and our headlamps were on. We found the ranger's station at the campground, checked in as thru-hikers #114 and #115 for the year, and headed for The Birches. This was it. The final destination. We were greeted by big hugs from Snickers and Sonic. We cooked our last freeze-dried Backpacker's Pantry meal with extra Minute Rice, sat by a dying fire, and went to sleep.
Back in the kitchen, I washed my face to hold back tears of joy. One month ago I was running and laughing through the woods and today I was working for chump change. I was having a rough night, but this table reminded me to keep it in perspective. Today was my one-month anniversary. Mine! A cause for celebration amidst chaos. I'll always have that.
Ugh.
It's 11:22 a.m. on September 12th. At 11:22 a.m. on August 12th, I was in the midst of an insane rock climb up Mt. Katahdin. I was hoisting, I was scraping, I was sweating, and I was emotionally confused. Ringleader and I summited on August 12th, but we were emotionally drained from the unprecedented stresses of family, tourists, and the end of a 5-month adventure. Many thru-hikers say their summit day is one of the best days of their life; it's logical, but I think August 11th served a little better.
We were on a tight schedule. Some of our last days on the trail were marathon days; August 11th was a 21 mile day, and I remember every moment. We woke up on the trail in our busted tent to the sound of TP's voice, "I thought it was you guys getting in after dark last night." TP! We love TP! Ringleader got a 30-second conversation with her at the end of our marathon days in Virginia, but I hadn't seen her since Hot Springs. For months we were anywhere from 10 days to 1 day behind her - and our last day, we finally saw one of our first friends on the AT. She looked good and (we could tell, although she probably would not admit it) she was extremely happy to see us one last time. It was great closure.
After an extended two-hour morning, we set off on our 21 mile day. We were finally leaving the 100-mile wilderness and were making our way for The Birches campground in Baxter State Park. We chatted. We soaked it all in. We crossed paths with a few south-bounders and flip-floppers (including a sweet older woman who was convinced Ringleader's name was Almost There...). Finally, after a painful amount of miles across roots, we came to the last shelter in the 100-mile wilderness. The shelter journal was out of paper, so we wrote on the back cover. Little did we know this would be the last shelter journal we would write in...
On we went. We began speed walking with little hops in our steps. Then, we heard it. Cars. Trucks. Automobiles. The terminus of the 100-mile wilderness. We ran, ecstatic. We ran out to the street and kept going to the bridge. Now, more than ever, we could see the end. Katahdin stood before us grand and menacing. 5 minutes we stood there looking at the mountain before we realized that time was escaping us. On we walked.
Two minutes later we stopped at the Abol Bridge convenience store. Kate downed orange soda, myself a large helping of Gatorade, and a bag of Cheetoh's Corn Puffs between us. The well pump was being fixed by a couple of old men (coffee in one hand, a wrench in the other). While we waited for the fresh water (our filter was broken), a family arrived. "Do you know our son? My brother? My boyfriend? Oh, we have to use his trail name - Felo!" Of course we knew Felo, a new thru-hiker friend we had met only 2-3 weeks before. We talked for 45 minutes with his family, who were planning on intersecting him at the Abol Bridge and then hike Katahdin with him the following day. In a way, meeting Felo's family gave us a wake-up call - these people, your loved ones, will come from great distances to support you because they are so proud of your accomplishment. Our mom and dad were on their way to Baxter for the same reason. With water filled and the day getting late, Ringleader and I entered Baxter State Park. I cannot say we were hiking. I would say we were strolling. 2,170-some miles we walked with barely a second of flat, pleasant ground, yet at the end of it all, we were walking on flat ground. The grade was not noticeable, and there were no rocks or roots. I was able to look up when I walked without fear of tripping! What I saw was remarkable. A rapid river, fresh air, lively trees and shrubs and flowers, rodents running, and the back of my sister's pack. It looked good for having traveled the entire east coast.
A few miles in, we took another break to document our last thoughts on film. Ringleader spoke first, so I went down to the river. There was a large rock slab jutting into the middle of the river, creating a thin but roaring waterfall. For the next hour, I inhabited the rock. I finished memorizing, "Oh, The Places You'll Go!", performing it a few times to an invisible audience. I basked in the sun and felt the warm fuzzies inside of me. When it was time to return for my confessional, I considered taking a picture of the rock. "No," I thought. "This one's for me."
Over the next hour I gave a confessional. I grew antsy within my talk, anxious to get to camp and upset that the setting sun through the trees kept dancing shadows across my face. Felo passed us in that time, and Ringleader promised we would see him tonight. Finally, we left. It was 7 p.m. and getting dark. We began with a quick walk. We rock-hopped two streams (in any other year they would have been tough fords). We were getting jittery. Then, out of nowhere, a sign. 2 miles left! More signs, with positively minute numbers on each one! That's when we started running. Running running running through the woods, yelling, screaming, making all kinds of noises, monkey and ape noises, panting, heavy breathing. Our packs were still heavy on our emaciated bodies, so the running gradually became intermittent sprints. Once, Ringleader yelled, "We got this!" and she took off sprinting. But, her trekking pole got stuck in some roots as she took off and she left it behind! Hahaha. I picked it up and passed it back, but the next 15 minutes of running included a mixture of gut-hurting laughter and gasping for breath.
By the time we got to the next road, it was dark and our headlamps were on. We found the ranger's station at the campground, checked in as thru-hikers #114 and #115 for the year, and headed for The Birches. This was it. The final destination. We were greeted by big hugs from Snickers and Sonic. We cooked our last freeze-dried Backpacker's Pantry meal with extra Minute Rice, sat by a dying fire, and went to sleep.
That was one month ago yesterday. Now, I work as a server at Carrabba's Italian Grille, biding my time until I can acquire a full-time career. Waiting tables is not the most flattering job; it requires precision and presentation when, in reality, most things the customer cares about (i.e. food) is out of your hands. Last night, one of my first out of training, was busy and every table seemed to be making their order difficult. Altering meals provides more opportunities for the kitchen to prepare the meal incorrectly, and it happened at almost every table. I felt my managers getting frustrated with me, and I did my best to remain calm. Then, the table came in. A couple, possibly mid-twenties but it was hard to tell. They frequented Carrabba's, although this was my first time with them. Her meal came out before the salads then taken back, was altered, and then made the wrong dish entirely. I felt terrible that I couldn't do such a simple task right. He found a pasta strand in his broccoli, and they took half of their meals home. Throughout it all, though, they never showed a sign of being upset. They laughed and were cheery. They sat patiently. Why? It was their one-year anniversary. Nothing would ruin this night for them.
Back in the kitchen, I washed my face to hold back tears of joy. One month ago I was running and laughing through the woods and today I was working for chump change. I was having a rough night, but this table reminded me to keep it in perspective. Today was my one-month anniversary. Mine! A cause for celebration amidst chaos. I'll always have that.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Freedom: Take 2
Written by: Brandon "Monkey" Imp
A long, long time ago, I wrote about newfound freedom. It was great. It was glorious! I wanted it to last forever. Honestly, though, I was afraid that the freedom would end when returning to society. Society has conventions and your life has a routine - even though I left society for five months, it is easy to fall back into that previous lifestyle.
Well, I wanted none of that. I didn't know how the trip changed me, but I was not going to let five months go to waste. I decided that one change is this newfound freedom. Society may have its standards, but when have I ever been conventional? There is only one Brandon Imp in this world, so I might as well make the best of it.
The great thing about newfound freedom is that I can develop new patterns and attribute them to the freedom. Like being neat and organized - that is not necessarily a "freedom", but the new pattern is definitely being recognized as an active change under my newfound freedom. Flossing and using mouthwash fall under the same category.
My friends and family hold a closer place to my heart. Especially after losing Sunny, I realize that these people will not be around me forever. I like them all (a lot!), so I need to maximize my experiences with them. Even if it's a short talk over drinks, rock climbing at the gym, or falling asleep to Lord of the Rings, every moment is special. I will no longer be passive or develop anxiety over "having to see so and so."
I went into Philadelphia tonight to see my close friend Dom DiTanna perform at World Cafe Live. He hit the stage hard and was feeling the moment. While Dom and I lead very different lives, we are so happy to be friends. He says, "It's amazing that you hiked the AT and graduated from Cornell. Like, man! What the hell!" But I come back with, "Dom, I wish I had your confidence. I would kill to sing and play the guitar like you. You taught yourself photography and can work a crowd of people without breaking a sweat. I might have hiked the AT, but you kick ass on so many other levels!" Years ago Dom recognized his "anything goes" freedom and made the best of it. Here I am, 22 years old, and feel like I am tasting it for the first time!
So, with this freedom, I changed up my look. The mohawk? That stuck around for a bit. A new job has reduced it to a buzz cut, but I am not complaining. And today. Today! I got a tattoo. My best friend Kelly and I have been discussing it for a year, and I ran over the idea with Ringleader over our trip, so this has been a rational, thought-out decision. I love it. It is unique, definitive, and unobtrusive. Plus, Kelly got one as well. Even my parents gave a nod of approval (they strongly disliked the mohawk...).
A long, long time ago, I wrote about newfound freedom. It was great. It was glorious! I wanted it to last forever. Honestly, though, I was afraid that the freedom would end when returning to society. Society has conventions and your life has a routine - even though I left society for five months, it is easy to fall back into that previous lifestyle.
Well, I wanted none of that. I didn't know how the trip changed me, but I was not going to let five months go to waste. I decided that one change is this newfound freedom. Society may have its standards, but when have I ever been conventional? There is only one Brandon Imp in this world, so I might as well make the best of it.
The great thing about newfound freedom is that I can develop new patterns and attribute them to the freedom. Like being neat and organized - that is not necessarily a "freedom", but the new pattern is definitely being recognized as an active change under my newfound freedom. Flossing and using mouthwash fall under the same category.
My friends and family hold a closer place to my heart. Especially after losing Sunny, I realize that these people will not be around me forever. I like them all (a lot!), so I need to maximize my experiences with them. Even if it's a short talk over drinks, rock climbing at the gym, or falling asleep to Lord of the Rings, every moment is special. I will no longer be passive or develop anxiety over "having to see so and so."
I went into Philadelphia tonight to see my close friend Dom DiTanna perform at World Cafe Live. He hit the stage hard and was feeling the moment. While Dom and I lead very different lives, we are so happy to be friends. He says, "It's amazing that you hiked the AT and graduated from Cornell. Like, man! What the hell!" But I come back with, "Dom, I wish I had your confidence. I would kill to sing and play the guitar like you. You taught yourself photography and can work a crowd of people without breaking a sweat. I might have hiked the AT, but you kick ass on so many other levels!" Years ago Dom recognized his "anything goes" freedom and made the best of it. Here I am, 22 years old, and feel like I am tasting it for the first time!
So, with this freedom, I changed up my look. The mohawk? That stuck around for a bit. A new job has reduced it to a buzz cut, but I am not complaining. And today. Today! I got a tattoo. My best friend Kelly and I have been discussing it for a year, and I ran over the idea with Ringleader over our trip, so this has been a rational, thought-out decision. I love it. It is unique, definitive, and unobtrusive. Plus, Kelly got one as well. Even my parents gave a nod of approval (they strongly disliked the mohawk...).
Here's to all that is new and good! May this trend continue (and may I please write more blog entries!!!)
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Water Spigot
Written by: Katherine 'Ringleader' Imp
Every morning on the trail, Emily, Brandon, and I would look at the thru-hiker’s companion to get a sense of what our day would like. Would there be any good overlooks? Roads? Towns? Famous landmarks? Of course most days never went as planned, but the companion usually gave us some valuable piece of information --- some place, person, or thing to look forward to. It gave us something to think about, something to desire, and sometimes, it was that little piece of information that gave us the motivation to continue.
One day, during an uneventful breakfast, Emily and I asked Brandon to give us the news of the day. “The only thing in the next 25 miles is a water spigot coming out the side of a building on a dirt road,” he said.
25 miles and all I thought about was that water spigot:
“Ms., if you don’t have your documents ready please step aside.” I have them right here. Safe and sound in a Ziploc bag. “Have a seat until your number is called.” Have a seat, okay. Omg, why do my knees still hurt so bad. I think I need to see a doctor. Why are so many people at the DMV on a Wednesday morning? “E0115! E0115, please step up!” Oh shit, that’s me. “You are aware that you need to take a written test?” Eh???? What are all these road signs???? Is this a trick? Omg, I am going to be so late to work. Just guess. “You passed. Picture over there. Plates to the office on the right. You need a Chicago sticker to park your car, which is in the building across the street. NEXT!!” Huh, okay. Follow the crowd.
Okay, 11:30am. How did I just spend $300. What else do I need to do? Open a new bank account. Get a credit card. Pay rent. Pay cell phone bill. Pay student loan. Clean my AT backpack that is currently quarantined in a garbage bag on my back porch. Enroll in firm health insurance plan so I can go to the doctor. Eat. Eat what I dunno. I need sugar. How do I have 50 new emails before noon? I hope Brandon and Emily are doing okay with the transition home. I need to call Grandma. And I’m at the office, put the smile on, here we go….
Ok. Ok. You can do this, Kate. You just thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. Seriously. One step at a time. Step one: figure out what a responsive pleading is and file it…..
There was this one day on the trail that I’ll never forget. It was the day of the water spigot.
Every morning on the trail, Emily, Brandon, and I would look at the thru-hiker’s companion to get a sense of what our day would like. Would there be any good overlooks? Roads? Towns? Famous landmarks? Of course most days never went as planned, but the companion usually gave us some valuable piece of information --- some place, person, or thing to look forward to. It gave us something to think about, something to desire, and sometimes, it was that little piece of information that gave us the motivation to continue.
One day, during an uneventful breakfast, Emily and I asked Brandon to give us the news of the day. “The only thing in the next 25 miles is a water spigot coming out the side of a building on a dirt road,” he said.
25 miles and all I thought about was that water spigot:
Yes!!!! I don’t have to pump water!!!!! I wonder what kind of building it’s attached to? That’s weird that a spigot would be coming out of a random building. Maybe it’s high enough off the ground that I can bathe under it? Unless the building is a place of business…that may not be appropriate. Haha. Why would there be a business on a random dirt road? I bet it’s just some abandoned building. Or maybe it was put there for hikers. Hmm….
Hopefully it’s nice enough near the spigot that we can take a snack break there. We should make some electrolyte drink since we don’t have to use that damn pump. Why is there a spigot coming out of a building? I think I’ll fill up my camelback with the full 3 liters so I don’t have to pump water later. I miss running water. So glad I don’t have to pump. I'm definitely going to bathe.
It’s amazing what your brain can do on so little information.
------------------------------------------------
Fast forward to yesterday:
“Ms., if you don’t have your documents ready please step aside.” I have them right here. Safe and sound in a Ziploc bag. “Have a seat until your number is called.” Have a seat, okay. Omg, why do my knees still hurt so bad. I think I need to see a doctor. Why are so many people at the DMV on a Wednesday morning? “E0115! E0115, please step up!” Oh shit, that’s me. “You are aware that you need to take a written test?” Eh???? What are all these road signs???? Is this a trick? Omg, I am going to be so late to work. Just guess. “You passed. Picture over there. Plates to the office on the right. You need a Chicago sticker to park your car, which is in the building across the street. NEXT!!” Huh, okay. Follow the crowd.
Okay, 11:30am. How did I just spend $300. What else do I need to do? Open a new bank account. Get a credit card. Pay rent. Pay cell phone bill. Pay student loan. Clean my AT backpack that is currently quarantined in a garbage bag on my back porch. Enroll in firm health insurance plan so I can go to the doctor. Eat. Eat what I dunno. I need sugar. How do I have 50 new emails before noon? I hope Brandon and Emily are doing okay with the transition home. I need to call Grandma. And I’m at the office, put the smile on, here we go….
“Hey Kate, can you file those responsive pleadings ASAP?” --- “Kate, can you swing by my office in a few minutes. I’d like you to help me answer some discovery.” --- “Kate, how was the trail???” --- “Kate, I’ve got a deposition in Florida tomorrow and I need 2nd coverage. Are you available?” --- “You took the bar exam in February…wait, where have you been for the last 5 months?” --- “Kate, I just sent you a spread sheet with the cases you’ve been assigned. You should request a dismissal or file a motion for summary judgment for the cases with an October trial setting.” --- “Weren’t you just in Africa or something?”
SENSORY OVERLOAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ok. Ok. You can do this, Kate. You just thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. Seriously. One step at a time. Step one: figure out what a responsive pleading is and file it…..
--------------------------------------------------
If someone were to ask me: how's your transition going? I'm not sure how I would respond. I think it's too early to tell. I haven't had time to process the adjustment. I moved to a new city and started working at a new job 3 days after summiting Mt. Katahdin. I still wake up in the morning feeling sore. I see white paint in the city streets and think about following it. I hear myself talking in conversation and wonder if I'm speaking in a socially appropriate manner. I look out the window of my office at Lake Michigan and my thoughts immediately turn to the beautiful lakes of Maine. I see running water...and think of the water spigot...attached to a building...on a dirt road.
The trail is now a part of me. And I feel it wherever I go, and whatever I do. It's odd, and somewhat lonely, but I'm just taking one step at a time. After such an intense experience, I think that's all you really can do. There are only really a few things I know for certain: (1) Brandon, Emily, and I just completed one of the most amazing experiences of our lives, (2) we made it home safe and sound, and (3) ... I'm really happy.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Appalachian Trail: Unknown Territory Video Blog - part 11
The eleventh installment of the Unknown Territory Video Blog
Check back soon for a new installment and follow along with the adventures of a lawyer, an Ivy grad, and a city chick.
Check back soon for a new installment and follow along with the adventures of a lawyer, an Ivy grad, and a city chick.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Trail Update #7
Hello friends, family, and followers!
First off, we want to thank all of you for following our journey on the Appalachian Trail. Keeping a blog on the Internet was a new experience for each of us. Your support gave us the motivation to keep it going! Thank you!
So…where do we go from here?
We initially planned to end the blog with our summit of Mt. Katahdin. In the last few months, however, we’ve met or been emailed by many thru-hikers that have mentioned how lonely and difficult the transition home can be. For this reason (as well as requests from followers), the Traveling Circus has decided to continue the blog for the time being. While not as frequent, we intend to post both written entries (about our transition) and video entries (from the trail) in hopes of providing insight and entertainment.
Other points of interest:
1. The Documentary
The Documentary will enter its post-production phase later this year. We still intend to have a completed product by Summer 2011. In many ways, the story will reflect this blog. This film is about our experience, and each of us tell a different tale (…with many surprises and confessions!) However, having a camera with us at all times also gave us the opportunity to provide our audience with a deeper connection to the ‘daily routine’: camp life, fellow thru-hikers, trail magic, and mountaintop views.
The Traveling Circus, with periodic help from co-producer/editor Jason Furrer, filmed over 200 hours of footage while also averaging over 20 miles a day on the trail. This was no easy feat, but we pushed through in hopes of creating something that could inspire people of all ages for years to come. With the help of One Way Street Productions and our editing team, we believe the film will do just that.
2. Listserv
For those of you interested in receiving updates about the progress of the documentary, please send us your email address at athike2010@gmail.com (or click here) so that we can add you to our listserv. The listserv will be emailed periodically with news re film festival submissions, scheduled viewings, etc.
3. Pictures
For those of you without a Facebook account, we apologize for not updating the picture page on our website! Monkey will be organizing the photos from the entire trip in the next few weeks. He plans to upload photo albums on our photo website for all to see. Our website will have slide shows of those albums as well.
For those of you with a Facebook account, our final albums of pictures have recently been added. Enjoy!
4. Separation of the Traveling Circus
There have been many assumptions made about the separation of the Traveling Circus, but alas, none of them will be addressed. In order for any one of us to speak “the truth,” we would have to invade the privacy of the other two --- something that none of us are willing to do. Hiking in a group (with 2 women & a guy / with 2 siblings & a friend / with 2 people that didn’t know each other & 1 that knew both / with a lawyer, an ivy grad, and a city chick) is something that has never been done. There was no book to follow, no one to seek advice from. Maybe it was a mistake, or maybe it was the best decision we ever made. What we do know is that we had some truly amazing experiences that will forever hold a place in our memories.
5. A Broad Thank You
Once again, thank you to everyone that helped the Traveling Circus get from Georgia to Maine. Thank you to every person that: (1) gave us a ride, (2) gave us a place to stay, (3) gave us food, (4) gave us a care package, (5) gave us advice, (6) gave us love and support, or most importantly, (7) made us smile and laugh. Our feet may have done the walking, but many times it was the support from people around us that kept us going. So, thank you!
First off, we want to thank all of you for following our journey on the Appalachian Trail. Keeping a blog on the Internet was a new experience for each of us. Your support gave us the motivation to keep it going! Thank you!
So…where do we go from here?
We initially planned to end the blog with our summit of Mt. Katahdin. In the last few months, however, we’ve met or been emailed by many thru-hikers that have mentioned how lonely and difficult the transition home can be. For this reason (as well as requests from followers), the Traveling Circus has decided to continue the blog for the time being. While not as frequent, we intend to post both written entries (about our transition) and video entries (from the trail) in hopes of providing insight and entertainment.
Other points of interest:
1. The Documentary
The Documentary will enter its post-production phase later this year. We still intend to have a completed product by Summer 2011. In many ways, the story will reflect this blog. This film is about our experience, and each of us tell a different tale (…with many surprises and confessions!) However, having a camera with us at all times also gave us the opportunity to provide our audience with a deeper connection to the ‘daily routine’: camp life, fellow thru-hikers, trail magic, and mountaintop views.
The Traveling Circus, with periodic help from co-producer/editor Jason Furrer, filmed over 200 hours of footage while also averaging over 20 miles a day on the trail. This was no easy feat, but we pushed through in hopes of creating something that could inspire people of all ages for years to come. With the help of One Way Street Productions and our editing team, we believe the film will do just that.
2. Listserv
For those of you interested in receiving updates about the progress of the documentary, please send us your email address at athike2010@gmail.com (or click here) so that we can add you to our listserv. The listserv will be emailed periodically with news re film festival submissions, scheduled viewings, etc.
3. Pictures
For those of you without a Facebook account, we apologize for not updating the picture page on our website! Monkey will be organizing the photos from the entire trip in the next few weeks. He plans to upload photo albums on our photo website for all to see. Our website will have slide shows of those albums as well.
For those of you with a Facebook account, our final albums of pictures have recently been added. Enjoy!
4. Separation of the Traveling Circus
There have been many assumptions made about the separation of the Traveling Circus, but alas, none of them will be addressed. In order for any one of us to speak “the truth,” we would have to invade the privacy of the other two --- something that none of us are willing to do. Hiking in a group (with 2 women & a guy / with 2 siblings & a friend / with 2 people that didn’t know each other & 1 that knew both / with a lawyer, an ivy grad, and a city chick) is something that has never been done. There was no book to follow, no one to seek advice from. Maybe it was a mistake, or maybe it was the best decision we ever made. What we do know is that we had some truly amazing experiences that will forever hold a place in our memories.
5. A Broad Thank You
Once again, thank you to everyone that helped the Traveling Circus get from Georgia to Maine. Thank you to every person that: (1) gave us a ride, (2) gave us a place to stay, (3) gave us food, (4) gave us a care package, (5) gave us advice, (6) gave us love and support, or most importantly, (7) made us smile and laugh. Our feet may have done the walking, but many times it was the support from people around us that kept us going. So, thank you!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Signs
Written by: Brandon "Monkey" Imp
There were many signs to indicate that our hike was coming to a close.
First, Ringleader broke her toe but continued hiking since we were "almost done." How she managed to hike the 250+ miles on a broken toe, while keeping up with Lightning, Snickers, and I, I cannot quite explain. Determination? Gritted teeth? Ibuprofen?
Later, Lightning separated from Ringleader and I. She chose to hike behind us and finished the trail on her own. With so little of the trail left, I suspect there was enough time to enjoy the solitary hike without feeling aftershock from group separation.
Finally, our gear began to fail. Within the last ten days of the trip, our shoes fell apart, the water filter virtually disintegrated, and the tent broke. Granted our shoes were near the end of their lifespan, Ringleader and I both noticed our shoes retained no tread and were useless on slippery rocks and roots. The water filter (grrr!!) met an awful end. The ceramic core (the part that purifies the water) looked uncharacteristically skinny one day when I was cleaning it; upon size inspection, it fell way below the "safe" standards. With only a few days left, we decided the cost of a new ceramic core was not worth the hassle - we would pump and push the water through this core until it could take the force no more! Then, that day, I lost the Brillo to clean the ceramic core. The core must be scrubbed frequently or else the water will not pump through - I resorted to using my fingernails for the remainder of the trip. The tent took its last straw in a hurricane of a thunderstorm - the tent began to leak and the zipper began unzipping. Every night we could zip less and less of the tent. One night, the entire bottom did not zip, so we barricaded ourselves inside with shoes and gear. Still, in the morning we found a large brown spider hiding in the tent and Ringleader suffered a large bite to the leg. On our final night at the Birches, we opted to sleep in the shelter because the tent did not zip at all. It was as if our gear was saying, "We know you are done, so leave us alone!!"
Although we experienced all of these signs (and believe me, we noticed them), there was only one I was looking for - the large wooden sign on Mt. Katahdin's Baxter Peak. Every other sign could only give a false hope that we were done. That one was the real deal.
We spent a few hours up on the peak. On the climb up and while lounging around the peak, I was waiting, and hoping, for a wave of emotions to hit me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream! I wanted to feel euphoric! All I felt was a chill. It ran up and down my spine for hours. You are done. You thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. You are done. What, please tell me, WHAT were you thinking? What are you thinking? Where are you going? - Down the mountain. That's where I am going. The minivan is what I am thinking of. The wild roller coaster is what I thought about.
And it was good. Thanks Ringleader and Lightning. I could not have done it without you! And to our parents, family, friends, thru-hikers, new acquaintances, and you all out in cyber space - you rock!
Oh, and my fifth Katahdin 5 was...making a Survivor application video. A kickin' one at that. Thank you for the suggestions - I still payed a tribute to Sunny and even gave a wave to you, Young One!
Until next time...
There were many signs to indicate that our hike was coming to a close.
First, Ringleader broke her toe but continued hiking since we were "almost done." How she managed to hike the 250+ miles on a broken toe, while keeping up with Lightning, Snickers, and I, I cannot quite explain. Determination? Gritted teeth? Ibuprofen?
Later, Lightning separated from Ringleader and I. She chose to hike behind us and finished the trail on her own. With so little of the trail left, I suspect there was enough time to enjoy the solitary hike without feeling aftershock from group separation.
Finally, our gear began to fail. Within the last ten days of the trip, our shoes fell apart, the water filter virtually disintegrated, and the tent broke. Granted our shoes were near the end of their lifespan, Ringleader and I both noticed our shoes retained no tread and were useless on slippery rocks and roots. The water filter (grrr!!) met an awful end. The ceramic core (the part that purifies the water) looked uncharacteristically skinny one day when I was cleaning it; upon size inspection, it fell way below the "safe" standards. With only a few days left, we decided the cost of a new ceramic core was not worth the hassle - we would pump and push the water through this core until it could take the force no more! Then, that day, I lost the Brillo to clean the ceramic core. The core must be scrubbed frequently or else the water will not pump through - I resorted to using my fingernails for the remainder of the trip. The tent took its last straw in a hurricane of a thunderstorm - the tent began to leak and the zipper began unzipping. Every night we could zip less and less of the tent. One night, the entire bottom did not zip, so we barricaded ourselves inside with shoes and gear. Still, in the morning we found a large brown spider hiding in the tent and Ringleader suffered a large bite to the leg. On our final night at the Birches, we opted to sleep in the shelter because the tent did not zip at all. It was as if our gear was saying, "We know you are done, so leave us alone!!"
Although we experienced all of these signs (and believe me, we noticed them), there was only one I was looking for - the large wooden sign on Mt. Katahdin's Baxter Peak. Every other sign could only give a false hope that we were done. That one was the real deal.
We spent a few hours up on the peak. On the climb up and while lounging around the peak, I was waiting, and hoping, for a wave of emotions to hit me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream! I wanted to feel euphoric! All I felt was a chill. It ran up and down my spine for hours. You are done. You thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. You are done. What, please tell me, WHAT were you thinking? What are you thinking? Where are you going? - Down the mountain. That's where I am going. The minivan is what I am thinking of. The wild roller coaster is what I thought about.
And it was good. Thanks Ringleader and Lightning. I could not have done it without you! And to our parents, family, friends, thru-hikers, new acquaintances, and you all out in cyber space - you rock!
Oh, and my fifth Katahdin 5 was...making a Survivor application video. A kickin' one at that. Thank you for the suggestions - I still payed a tribute to Sunny and even gave a wave to you, Young One!
Until next time...
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