The best laid plans…

With a clear destination and start date in mind, we went to planning out the details by studying the AT Guide to locate shelters and campsites where we would stay, and plotting water sources and potential options to enjoy a hot meal in a town.  As in years past, Jim and I both continued to fine tune our gear, looking for the most functional and at the same time, lightweight options that we could afford and/or justify.  At one point we calculated the cost to reduce ounces in our pack and decided not to fixate on “Necessary” costs. Several conversations and trips to outdoor stores later, our backpacks were loaded with gear and 6 days of food supply. It was time to hit the trail.   We met on a Sunday afternoon at the northern end parking spot and left Jim’s car there.  We then headed south to Waynesboro, PA for one more night of hot food and a comfortable hotel night’s sleep.  Monday morning, after taking advantage of the “All you can eat continental breakfast”, we made the 4 mile drive to the trailhead we had visited two years prior, grabbed our packs and took our first steps on the AT for 2023.  As in years past, walking away from a perfectly good vehicle on foot knowing that you have 93 miles between you and the end point always kicks in a healthy dose of adrenaline, as the reality of what is to come sets in.

Off to a good start…

Our first day on trail was going to be a short one.  In 2022, we had learned that attempting a 20 mile day before getting some trail legs is a bad idea.   With only 13 miles between us and the Quarry Gap shelters, we made our way through the relatively gentle terrain of southern PA.   We did have a pretty good climb coming out of Caledonia State Park, but aside from that it was really pretty easy going.   With my new state of being a single kidney owner/loaner, hydration was going to be more of an issue for me than in years past.   Because of that, we did not pass up too many opportunities to top off our water bottles.  We did learn that in this section of trail, the trusty FarOut app was a bit more pessimistic on the water sources than what we actually experienced.   We passed several water sources that were not even mentioned in the app.   Not that we were complaining, it was just the first year we noticed this discrepancy…or maybe we were just paying closer attention…and the inaccuracy did cause us to take an unnecessary .5 mile steep downhill trek (thus a steep uphill back to trail) to fill up at a documented spring.  What’s a mile or two between friends. Detours aside, we strolled into camp just before 2PM to be greeted by the nicest shelter we had ever experienced.  It had a rocking swing, easy access spring, planted flowers and hidden gnomes around just to make it interesting.  Over the next several hours, many more hikers showed up to make this on trail resort of sorts their home for the night.   We spent a bit of time with a hiker, whose trail name we both forgot, but said folks think he looks like John Lennon, a section hiker by the name of ADK, and a father/daughter duo by the names of Hatchet and Hobbit.  It was a fun first night and set our moods high as we looked to the days ahead.

Stretch goals…

Day two was planned to be just under 14 miles.  But Jim had been doing some map studying and saw that there was a state campground only 3 miles past our planned stopping point. Adding that extra distance would take day three’s 19 planned miles down to 16.   We did not immediately commit to extending our day, but planned to reassess as we reached the 14th mile.   When mile 14 arrived, we felt pretty good and pushed on to Pine Grove Furnace. To AT Hikers this is known as the home of the half gallon challenge….where hungry thru hikers attempt to eat a half gallon of ice cream in record time, marking the midway point on the AT.  Being only section hikers, Jim and I each downed a pint of ice cream and got ourselves a site at the state campground.   Unfortunately, it was another mile walk into our tent site from the trail.   Again, what’s a mile or two between friends. Shortly after setting up camp, our camping neighbors asked if they could park a car in our site as they were exceeding the vehicle limit per site.  Turned out it was a Mom and her Son from Maryland and a section hiker from Virginia that had met on trail and teamed up to slack pack a few sections together.   Jim, being the quick thinker that he is, agreed to allow them to park at our site in exchange for a shuttle the next morning to the trailhead.    Feeling proud of our negotiation skills there was not much that could dampen our spirits, that was until a crow snagged one of my bright red packaged granola bars from the picnic table and flew off with it as a prized possession.   My spirits were clearly dampened…while Jim seemed to find the experience altogether hilarious.

The Smokies…

We were awake quite early on day three, and after a shuttle from our camping neighbors, we were back on the trail for another day of hiking.  Up to this point, we had beautiful weather.  Mostly sunny and in the 70’s.   We had a brief sprinkle the night before, but not even to the point of needing to dry out our gear.   On this day, we started to notice a haze in the air and a smoky smell.  It was later that night that we learned about the smoke from Canadian wildfires that was overtaking much of the north east.  The hiking on day three was once again pretty mellow, traversing dense forests, the occasional farm field, and the very fun Rock Maze as we made our way to the Alec Kennedy shelter.  That night, we were joined at the shelter by a real nice thru hiking married couple from Austria that went by the trail names Nutella and Bane.

The Beatles…

Day four was going to be a big one, with eighteen planned miles, and a large portion of that going through open farm land and along hedge rows.  A few miles after leaving the shelter we descended to the first field section, and the sky was noticeably hazy still.   In short time we found ourselves in the quaint little town of Boiling Springs, PA.   We spotted a diner, Caffe 101, only about a football field’s length from the trail.   It was breakfast time and we decided we had earned a hot meal.  We sat outside as to not offend the cleaner patrons with our all-natural hiking scent.  Before we had even ordered, John Lennon, the hiker we had met on night one, came strolling up in his familiar straw hat and we invited him to join us and treated him to breakfast.   It was fun to get to know him a bit more and hear his story and what had brought him out on the trail.  After breakfast we continued north covering mile after mile of farmland.  At lunch time, we walked by a Mennonite farm stand that had drinks and snacks for sale, along with fresh veggies and eggs.   We took advantage of the picnic table outside the stand and made that our lunch stop, enjoying the ice cold Gatorades and even having a chat with the boy that was responsible for stocking the stand.  With full bellies and renewed optimism, we continued on our way to the Darlington shelter.  Once again, this spot proved pretty popular with the hikers, and there were probably close to a dozen thru hikers set up in their tents.  Jim and I were surprised we had the shelter to ourselves, well, until we were introduced to the three 6’ long black snakes that were living under a stump just outside the shelter. They slithered easily up and down the trees making us and the birds a bit nervous.  Fortunately they stayed in their stump, and we stayed in our bunks, and our paths did not cross in the dark hours of night.

Eight slices of heaven…

With our longest hiking day behind us, day five looked to be a fun one, with a walk through the town of Duncannon and about 16 miles to our next shelter.  This was our first day of some really nice views, which should have been a warning…there was going to be some climbing.   The descent into Duncannon was slow and steep and by the time we got there, we had worked up quite the appetite.  Fortunately, we came across a small pizza parlor was right on ‘trail’, and we felt it our civic duty to help support the local economy.   A large supreme pizza later, we were back on trail, which happened to be sidewalks for the next couple miles, followed by the toughest climb of the week.  After the big climb and some great views, the trail leveled out for a short bit.   We were just about to reach the Clarks Ferry Shelter for the night, and that’s when we met a guy that was leaving the gift of trail magic at the shelter.   He offered us each a lollipop…we first declined, but then he proclaimed they were the world’s best lollipops, so we each took one, and indeed, based on my sample set of lollipops consumed, they were the world’s best lollipops.   Later that night we were joined by a shelter guest who supposedly had been on trail for over a year and was heading north with his wife. She was oddly not present and there were plenty of reasons to not ask questions.   Weird circumstances aside, our last night on trail was relatively uneventful, and we were now only 13 miles from Jim’s car.

Light at the end of the tunnel…

Jim and I are usually pretty motivated to get off trail in good time on our final morning of hiking each year, and this year was no exception.   We were up early and back on our way by 6AM.  The morning trail followed a forested ridgeline for much of the way and then dropped down into the valley to the parking lot.  It took us a speedy 5 hours to put the last 13 miles behind us, and we were happy to see Jim’s car still sitting there, ready to carry us back south to Waynesboro for a celebration dinner.

…and that was it, section hike number 5 behind us.  Hiking the Appalachian Trail is always an adventure.  Between the physical and mental challenges, the great people you meet, the views, the trail magic, the towns, and the pain, it’s a love-hate relationship of epic proportions. With an accumulated total of five weeks on trail and 513 total miles behind us, the 1,680 miles remaining continue to lure us back year after year.  Every section we hike we look forward to reaching the end, and every day after we reach the end of that section we can’t wait to get back out there and do it all over again. 

I’ll take packs and things that fill them for $1000…

For those that are not obsessed with hiking gear, feel free to go back to your regularly scheduled programming. I won’t be offended.    If you’re still with me, let’s talk about gear tweaks I made for my 2023 section hike.

With 51 weeks between hikes, it gives plenty of time to revisit my gear selection, and this year followed suit.  I had been pretty happy with my gear from the prior year, but there’s always room for improvement.  I planned to hike with my REI Co-op Flash 55 pack again this year.   I finally decided that that top lid was no longer a necessity.   Top lids are a convenient place to store things you want quick access to, but they always flop over the pack awkwardly when you have to get in the pack itself, and dropping it saved a few ounces.   I can say for certain that I did not miss having it one bit.

The hip belt pockets that came with the REI pack always seemed a bit too small, so I replaced them with a couple larger pockets from Zpacks.  I also added a shoulder strap pouch from WEBO Gear to carry my phone.  

All of these mods, though relatively small, made a noticeable difference in the convenience of the pack.

The rest of my gear lineup had remained the same.

After this year on the trail, I identified a couple tweaks for next year.  I think I’ll be dropping my inflatable pillow and just using my clothes sack for a pillow.  I also need to look for some different meal choices.  The Mountain House Freeze dried meals are pretty good, but I think some variety would be nice.

…time to start planning for next year!

Planning…

I’ll admit that I take great joy in planning my various adventures in life.  Whether it’s figuring out the gear I’ll need, the route I’ll take, or the food I’ll snack on throughout the day, planning an event like a section hike is fun for me.  With only a little more than 300 miles of the 2200 miles the AT has to offer under our belt and having more life in the rear view mirror than we have through the windshield, we have come to realize that if we only tackle 100 miles each year, we’re gonna be mighty old by the time we get this thing wrapped up.   Given that sobering detail, we decided to up our game this year and tack on an additional day and about 20 more miles of trail to our week-long adventure.  After studying the trail maps for shelter and water locations, we decided that straying from our traditional southbound trajectory worked better for both our starting and ending days, and the days in the middle would work out the same no matter which way the compass pointed.   There were no convenient resupply options on this 120 mile stretch of trail, so we were going to have to start our week with all the food we’d need for the entire hike.

Getting there…

Friday morning I headed south from NY and Jim headed north from GA and we met on Friday afternoon at the north end parking lot in Rockfish Gap, VA and then drove south to Roanoke, VA, where we’d get one more night of running water and a non-freeze dried meal.   Saturday morning, with a good night’s rest, we made our way to the Blackhorse Gap Parking on the Blue Ridge Parkway by 7:30AM, where we’d pick up the AT and start our northbound trek.     

I guess I should have tested that…

In year’s past, we did our car shuffling the day we started our hike, which usually meant we’d be hitting the trail late morning.  Because of this, most of our first day distances were around 10 miles or so.   With the car shuffling already complete, we got an earlier start this year. Due to the shelter locations and amenities (ie. a water source), our first day on the trail would be 18.4 miles, with some descent climbing along the way.   The morning started off cool, but an early season warm spell meant temps would be reaching the mid 80’s.   Adding to the challenge of this already challenging day, we knew we had a 10 mile stretch with no available water, so a few miles in, we stopped at a small stream to top off our water bottles.  It was at this moment I realized I had not tested all my gear for this year’s hike.  I filled up my water filter bag and as I tried to squeeze some dirty stream water through my Sawyer Squeeze filter to fill my bottles, nothing was flowing through, not even a single drop of water.  At the same time, Jim’s filter bag burst at the seams.   Fortunately he had a spare filter bag.   As I borrowed Jim’s filter, he proceeded to try all sorts of tricks to get my filter flowing again, with little success…though it was starting to let a few drops of water through.  I’ll admit that I was a little uneasy knowing we’d have to go the next 116 miles with only one water filter between us.   The other mistake I made was to attempt to conserve my water from that moment of the day on…which would turn out to be a very bad decision and caused a bit of dehydration. 

The first day seemed like a longer day than it probably was, the result of the temps, the climbs, and a pretty big distance for not having built up any trail legs yet.  Before your trail legs kick in you climb a hill and mental and physical weakness coaxes you to stop where only your will keeps you going. Most hikers get their trail legs somewhere near week 2, but we have found the hike getting easier by day 3 or 4, either from reduced food weight in our packs or from warming up to the daily abuse. We ended up arriving at the Bryant Ridge Shelter just before 4PM, where we met a woman that was only two sections away from completing the entire AT.  …and then the miracle happened.  Jim and I were talking about my water filter issue, which still had not been resolved, when this woman said she had an extra filter that I could have…for free.   I was so relieved, this free filter was well worth paying for and I quickly grabbed a twenty dollar bill and did a ‘Buy It Now’ right there in the woods.  With that issue solved, I breathed a sigh of relief and started to enjoy our evening at camp. A girl from Michigan, who was thru hiking, showed up just before dinner time, and we all enjoyed some high quality freeze dried meals and random chit chat around the picnic table before the sun went down. Despite a less than perfect start, it was still great to be back on the trail.

Big miles and big climbs…

Day two is where we started to realize that this stretch of Appalachian Trail was not like the others we had tackled to date.   We had made the decision to cover about 23 miles on our second day.  This would be the longest single day for the week, and I think the idea of getting it done this early in the trip sounded appealing.  Well, where we went wrong was not looking carefully at the elevation profiles.   Not only was this a big mile day, coming right off a long first day on the trail, but we’d be starting our day with a 3,000’ climb and adding several other climbs to it throughout the day.  There’s not a lot of good I can say about this day of hiking.  It was hot, I was still paying for my bad decision to conserve water the day before, and we were on trail for about 11 hours by the time we arrived at Matt’s Creek Shelter, our stop for the night.  There we were greeted by a Dad, his daughter and her husband, and their two four legged hiking companions who were all out for a week long section on the trail as well.   We enjoyed the rest of the evening getting to know them a bit, while we attempted to recover from a very tough day on trail.

Short and Steep, and not so Sweet…

We started the next day with an ounce of optimism because we were only planning to cover about 13 miles to our next shelter and we already had 41 miles under our belt.   Once again, we failed to pay attention to the terrain, and shortly after crossing the James River, we were greeted with about 3500’ of climbing before we’d make our descent to the Punchbowl shelter.  It was high 80’s that day, but we were treated to several great views along the way and we arrived at camp with plenty of time to relax a bit.  The water source was great, so we took advantage of that to do some laundry at the campsite.  An Air Force retiree set up camp there for the night as well.  We chatted with him a bit about the next day’s wet weather forecast, where he assured us the storm would be brief, if it even hit us at all.

The odds of a trail tragedy…

The first few shelters we stayed at did not have bear poles or bear boxes for our food bags.  The night before, the other hikers hung their bags on the assortment of hooks and cords already in the shelter.  I admittedly was not completely sure of this technique and the next night Jim and I debated our options…well, I debated them, where Jim was convinced that hanging the food bags on the shelter hooks was more than safe and a visit from a curious black bear was very unlikely.  Jim seemed more concerned with hiking through a lightning storm the next day on trail.  Given the complete lack of suitable trees to hang a bear line on, I gave in to Jim’s way of thinking, though I wasn’t nearly as worried about hiking through a little lightning.

Jim was right…

Day four was going to be a 15.5 mile day.   We would start with some rolling climbs, followed by a 1500’ drop into a valley, and then we’d have a 3000’ climb before we’d reach our destination.   The day started out quite warm and sunny.  We stopped at about mile 9 at the Brown Mountain Creek Shelter for lunch.  This was the last stop before our big climb.  While we were eating a hiker came through, we exchanged a hello, but we didn’t really engage in much conversation.  He continued on his way as we finished up lunch. 

With full bellies, full water bottles, and a little over 6 miles to go til camp, we started making the steep climb up Bald Knob mountain.   2 miles into our climb, the skies started to get dark and the winds started to pick up.  We stopped quickly to throw our pack covers on in case it rained, but did not throw rain gear on, cuz it usually just makes us overheat.  It started to sprinkle a bit, then rain a bit…  As we gained elevation, the winds got stronger, the rain picked up, lightning strikes got closer, and it started to hail.  I chuckled to myself as I remembered Jim’s concern with carrying metal trekking poles through a lightning storm.   The 80 degree temps we had experienced earlier in the day had been replaced by temps in the low 30’s at best.  At this point we were completely soaked, and it was getting tough to stay warm.   There was very little shelter on the mountain, but we finally found a large rock we could hide behind long enough to get our rain jackets on.  We were both starting to get very cold and with a mile and a half to go wondered if we should set up a shelter or push on.  We decided to keep going.   Even with my rain jacket on, I could not get warm.  My teeth were chattering and it was the first time in all my years hiking that I actually realized just how quickly conditions can go from good to bad.   Jim knew we had to warm up, so once we crossed the peak, he started to run.  We are both trail runners, though not typically with a 30lb pack strapped to our backs.  Jim asked if I was OK running, and I was quick to say yes.  The faster pace was helping to warm things up.  We probably got down off that mountain in less than 15 minutes and soon found ourselves at the Cow Camp Gap shelter.  

Austin, the hiker we had seen at lunch, was already there and hunkered down under his quilt in an attempt to warm up.   The rain had brought with it a cold front, and we would not see temps get out of the 60’s for the rest of the week.  A girl, an accountant from northern VA who went by the trail name Star Gazer, was also section hiking and would show up shortly after us…equally soaked from the storm. The harrowing experience bonded us quickly and we knew that the climb and weather change was somewhat of a shared victory. On a nice sunny day I’m not sure any of us would be too chatty, but that gave us some laughs.  The four of us did our best to get dried out and warmed up as the already dark skies slowly faded to black for the night.

Hiking with Austin…

When you awaken to the sight of your breath rising in the morning air in front of you, it does not motivate one to crawl out from under a cozy quilt and hit the trail.  However, after a serious dose of procrastination, it was finally time to gather up my soggy clothes from the day before and start to tackle the 17 miles that were between us and our next night’s destination.   Though the clouds had receded, and the sun was shining bright, it was still pretty cold and very windy as we started our hike.   The day’s hike was going to take us up and over a half dozen 500’ climbs, but far easier than the last few days.  Despite the cooler temps, our pace warmed us up pretty quickly, and we took a quick break to drop some layers of clothes. 

At about that time, Austin caught up with us.  He was a thru hiker from PA and had been on the trail since early March.  We thought he’d hike right past us, but he decided to hike with us for the day.  As we chatted with our new hiking buddy, the day and the miles went by very quickly and we reached The Priest Shelter by mid afternoon.  It was a fun day on the trail, with temps never really getting much out of the 50’s.  The only downer to the day was seeing a big sign at our shelter declaring that the privy was CLOSED because it was…um…full!   I’m not saying that I’m ever really excited to have to visit the privy while on trail, but it sure beats the other options available.  A couple hikers showed up after us and took tent spots, and a hiker from the UK also joined us in the shelter for the night.   At an elevation of 3900’, it was probably the coldest night we had on trail.

Three Ridges…

Day six was going to be another short one, with only 14 miles planned, but they were not easy miles.  Austin was going to hike with us again, but was going to continue on beyond our planned stopping point.   The day started out with a couple hundred foot climb, followed by a steep 3000’ descent.  As soon as we reached the ‘bottom’, we immediately started to climb back up another 3000’ over a mountain called Three Ridges.  This was a tough and rocky climb with several ‘false peaks’ on the way to the summit.  We were rewarded by great views, and temperatures in the 60’s made it a pretty nice day. 

We arrived at the Maupin Field Shelter mid afternoon, and Austin decided to also call it a day.  This was a neat camping spot with several tent sites, a nice 6 person shelter, and a fully functioning privy.   A section hiker who went by the trail name of Nog already had a shelter spot claimed and a couple thru hikers, K Greenie and Lightning showed up a little later and took the last 2 spots.  Jim and I were sharing with them that we were classmates from a small town in the Catskills, and we were surprised to learn that both Nog and Lightning had lived not too far from there at points in their lives and were very familiar with our hometown and even hiked some of our local peaks.  It was a fun connection and reminder that in a big old world, we’re not as far apart from each other as we sometimes think we are.  It was a warmer night and we really enjoyed getting acquainted with our fellow hikers.

Making Tracks…

At this point we were only about 21 miles from the end of our hike, but we had planned to stop at mile 16 for the night and finish out with a short morning hike the next day.  Austin once again decided to hike with us, but he was going to cover the whole 21 miles and get a shuttle into a hostel and a resupply.  Jim always leads on trail and he must have been trying to get Austin to his destination quickly because we covered the 16 miles to the Paul C. Wolfe shelter in about 6 hours of moving time, arriving early in the afternoon.   We said goodbye to Austin as he continued north and we made our way to what was probably the coolest shelter site we had seen all week…a multi level shelter with a covered porch, overlooking a nice stream.  It was a great setting to just hang out after our last full day of hiking.   We were later joined by three ladies that were section hikers from Cape Cod, and the loft was taken by a bunch of thru hikers that arrived after sundown.

Ninety minutes to pancakes…

We have learned that a short hike on the last day on trail leaves a lot of time to celebrate before we both head back to our homes.   Our morning plan was to get on trail early and make quick work of the last 5 miles and find a place to get some pancakes and real brewed coffee.   We knocked out that last 5 miles in about 90 minutes and by 9AM we were sitting in a Cracker Barrel eating blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup.  With bellies full, we drove the hour and a half drive back to the trailhead where I had parked my truck and headed to our hotel for the final night.  We rounded out the day with a delicious meal at the Wasena City Tap Room, a cool pub in downtown Roanoke, where we reflected on the highs and lows of our week on the trail.  We had done it…one more section of the Appalachian Trail, 120 miles in one week, about 30,000 feet of elevation gain and loss, and nearly 20% of the AT now complete.   There was a lot to celebrate!

How soon we forget…

When it comes to section hiking and backpacking in general, forgetfulness may be a good thing.   Trail struggles are real…aches, pains, blisters, fatigue, stinkiness, all of it…it’s real and it’s not easy.  Every hike, there are moments where the idea of becoming a retired hiker crosses my mind…perhaps this year more frequently than other years.   But, usually during my car ride home, it seems the only trail memories I have are the highlights, the great views, the good laughs, the fun conversations, the people we’ve met…and I’m soon ready to sign up for the next one.   With only 420 out of the total 2,193 miles of the AT completed, there will have to be a lot more next ones.   As Charles Dickens wrote, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”  So far, the bests far outweigh the worsts and I’m just excited to get to the next of times.

Shifting gears…

This is the part of the article where those interested in the story but not the hiking hobby will probably want to tune out.  Every step of every backpacking trip, we are keenly aware of the weight on our backs, and the gear we’re wearing.   In fact, talking gear consumes quite a bit of trail time and a lot of the time between trail times.  It’s the never ending process of looking for that next lighter, better, more comfortable gear item.   This year was no different and I started the trail with a couple new pieces of gear.

Backpacks:  The last two years I have hiked with the Osprey Atmos AG 50L pack.  I’m a big fan of the Osprey packs and their anti gravity design features and the Atmos has been a solid and very comfortable pack.  But, the Atmos is no ultralight pack and I had been looking to shave a little weight.  After trying the Osprey Exos 58, the Gregory Focal 58, and the Sierra Designs Flex Capacitor, I finally landed on the REI Flash 55 and it was a phenomenal choice.   It comes in about 1.7 lbs lighter than my Osprey, has more accessible water bottle pockets, a very convenient roll top design, and a pretty lightweight brain for additional organization.  I added some shock cord to the front panel for carrying wet gear and I was very happy with this pack.  I was a little worried because some reviews talked about the hip belt either being too big or coming loose, but neither of those problems became a reality for me.  For a pack that you can often pick up for under $160 during the REI sales, it’s a pretty tough pack to beat.

Tents:  This year I left my Big Agnes Copper Spur UL1 at home and carried my new Durston X-Mid 1P tent.  The X-Mid 1P is a trekking pole tent that dropped my tent weight ½ lb and added a ton of vestibule room for my gear.  All that said, I did not use my tent once on this section hike, and I was pretty happy about that.   I’ll always carry a tent, because you can’t rely on finding a spot in a shelter, but if I never once have to set up a tent on trail again, I’m completely good with that.

For the next section hike, aside from buying a new Sawyer Squeeze filter, I don’t anticipate making many gear changes.  I might fine tune my clothing options, but that will vary each year depending on the weather we anticipate.  I do plan to change up my food options.  Fewer Clif Bars and more salty snacks will be on next year’s hiking menu.

We both enjoyed the 100 mile’ish distance, so we looked for a section of the trail that would accommodate that distance and was located somewhere centrally between my home in upstate New York and Jim’s home in Georgia. After some fancy Googling, we ended up picking the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.   

The cost of an ounce…

After starting out my first backpacking trip with a loaded pack weight of nearly 40lbs, I had made it my winter goal to reduce weight, at nearly all costs…  A new tent, different headlamp, smaller pocket knife, lighter water filter, fewer clothing items, cutting straps off my pack and a handful of other changes and I had reduced my base weight from 22lbs to just under 19lbs and brought my total pack weight to just under 34lbs.

With my pack, and wallet, significantly lighter, we had settled in on a mid May hike.   Well, until COVID hit and the world shut down, including Shenandoah National Park.   After a few other hurdles, we finally locked in on a week in October for our next hiking adventure.

Oh Shenandoah…

Shenandoah National Park straddles the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia.   The Appalachian trail through the park runs from Front Royal on the northern end to Rockfish Gap on the southern end.   Sticking strictly to the main trail, the distance between these two points is 107.7 miles… but side excursions to huts, water, and waysides will quickly get you up over 110 miles of total hiking.

We started at the Front Royal end, hitting the trail mid morning on a Saturday.  Greeted by a cool morning, we made our way along the predominantly uphill trail from Rt. 522 to our first campsite, about 14 miles from our starting point.  A few things we quickly learned about hiking this section of the trail.   Lean-tos or shelters are called huts in this neck of the woods.   There are also limited places to pitch a tent at the designated campsites.   Our experience the prior year was that the campsites had lots of wide open space around the shelter for tenters.   Given COVID concerns, we had planned to use our tents on nights where we couldn’t have the huts to ourselves.  This meant getting to camp early enough to claim a spot for the night was a necessity.

The Daily Routine…

Backpacking has a routine.   Every morning starts with the clean up, pack up, eat up routine.  Typically done simultaneously to get on the trail.  Hiking in mid October meant limited daylight hours.   We had done a better job this year laying out our nightly destinations to even out daily distances, but with a few days pushing the 20 mile mark, the 11 hours of daylight, didn’t leave a ton of room for hanging around camp in the morning.   No matter how much we attempted to speed up the morning operations, we were usually on trail right at 8AM.   We would typically hike a pretty good clip, and even with stops for snacks, lunch, and filtering water, we’d cover our 18+ miles in about 8 hours, arriving to camp around 4PM each day.

Remote, with conveniences…

The Appalachian Trail through Shenandoah parallels the Skyline Drive, and crosses it from time to time.   Though you never hike through any towns, there are some wayside stores, campgrounds, and lodges that can usually be reached by a short detour off trail.    The Skyland Lodge was one of those stops for us.   We both snagged a pre-packaged sandwich, some chips, and some high calorie candy snacks.  I can’t say that I’ve ever had a pre-packaged sandwich I’ve enjoyed more.   An equal amount of joy was experienced at the Loft Mountain Campstore where they had a ‘mix up your own milkshake’ machine.   Under a covered breezeway, we shared caloric euphoria with several other hikers in varying states of fatigue, achiness, and dirtiness. 

Two of our six nights on the trail, we also took advantage of staying at one of the campgrounds along the trail.   This helped us keep our daily distances a bit more even.   We stayed at Big Meadows Campground on Monday night and Loft Mountain Campground on Wednesday night.   Though, not quite as peaceful or serene as the hut sites, it was nice to have access to running water a couple times through our week.   At Loft Mountain Campground, a fella from New York City who was our campground neighbor took pity upon us and gave us some firewood for a campfire. Later that evening, he joined us around the campfire to solve the problems of the world for a couple hours.

True Colors…

One of the perks of hiking in October is seeing the fall colors.  It wasn’t quite peak yet in Virginia, but many of the trees were exchanging their greenery for hues of red, orange, and brown.   And, though the 24,000 feet of elevation gain through Shenandoah National Park was a challenge, many of the summits provided never ending views of the autumnal display.

Chasing Seth and Amy…

I’ve read that thru-hikers on the Appalachian trail end up seeing the same hikers or groups of hikers along their journey on the trail.  As section hikers, we had never experienced that.  Our first night on the trail this year, the prime tent spots had been taken, so Jim and I set up our tents practically right on the trail.  A while after we made camp, a couple came in, and faced with a similar shortage of great tent sites, ended setting up camp right near us.  Other than a casual hello, there was nothing significant about our interaction.   They were pretty efficient at their morning routine and hit the trail before us the next day.  Jim and I, despite no longer being able to check the 25-30 year old age box on any customer surveys, hike at a pretty good clip.  We ended up catching this couple mid morning after a grueling climb that seemed to go on forever.   We didn’t see them again while on the trail that day, but once we got to the next hut site, there they were, getting ready to set up for the night.  We didn’t know where they passed us, but likely during one of our water filtering stops.   That night we finally learned that their names were Seth and Amy and they were from Maryland.  We also learned that they were hiking the same section of the trail that we were hiking.   For the next four days, we’d leapfrog each other, oftentimes staying at the same campsite at night.   It became the common theme for the week, we’d be wondering where Seth and Amy were, and they’d be wondering when Craig and Jim would pass them.   The last night on trail, we hung out by the hut getting to know each other a bit more and sharing some hiking stories and laughs from the trail.   The next morning, they got the jump on us and were well ahead of us for our last 8 mile leg.   Somewhere around mile 6 we caught up with them one last time.   We saw them again as we were loading up our car and they were just getting off the trail…we exchanged energetic waves as we each ended our week in the woods and prepared to return to everyday life.   We will likely never see them again, but I finished that week knowing we had made some new friends.

Changing Gears…

For the gear junkies that are following along, the two biggest gear changes for this year were my pack and my tent.  Last year I had hiked with the Osprey Atmos AG 65.   I loved the pack, but it was a bit bigger than I needed for a week long summer hike.   This year I used the Osprey Atmos AG 50.  Dropping 15 liters of capacity only dropped my weight by 5.5oz, but the more compact pack made for a better carry.   I also left my Big Agnes Copper Spur one person tent at home in favor of the Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo.   This single wall, trekking pole tent added more interior room and shaved about 12 oz. off my prior year weight.   The downside was that a single wall tent has a lot more condensation.  As much as I enjoyed the extra room and weight savings, the condensation was a hassle.   Some of our nights dropped into the low to mid thirties, so maybe that added to the challenge, but for next year, I’ll probably be going back to my old tent or looking for a new option.

We the people…

Aside from the challenges and the beauty of the trail, I think one of the things I most enjoy is meeting the people on the trail.   We were not sure what to expect, hiking in the midst of a pandemic and all, but if hiking isn’t considered socially distant, I’m not sure what is.  However, we did meet a lot of hikers along the way.   Not much conversation took place during the daily hiking, except at the occasional scenic overlook or water stop, but once we got to camp, things were a little different.  It’s always fun to hear what brings a hiker to the trail, because they all have a story, something that makes them leave the comfort of home to get out and spend some time in nature.  We met a trio of women that became friends through some Meet-Up hiking groups in Florida and they were out doing the same section of trail that we were doing, just northbound.  We met some first time hikers on their first night on the trail, a couple brothers that just realized they were brothers six decades into life and were getting to know each other, some seasoned section hikers, and a couple father and son duos out for a weekend in nature.   We also ran into a few thru-hikers that were trying to beat the cold weather to Georgia, and at the pace they were going, I’m sure they will do fine.   Some hikers keep to themselves, others want to talk gear, some want you to be sure to know they are in the know about all things hiking.  Most would ask how Jim and I got into hiking together, and it was always fun to tell them that we’ve known each other since Kindergarten and a moment of weakness at a class reunion started this new found obsession.   

Speaking of people, someone find me a stump to stand on…

Since there are no soap boxes in the forest, I figure a stump will do.   My week without connectivity to the outside media world was a gift.   …and there’s one thing I learned from it.   On the trail, there are people from all religions, races, genders, ages, economic statuses, educational statuses and political affiliation.   But, you would not know it.  Because, on the trail, we are all hikers, and that one common bond alone is enough to make any other difference not matter.   On the trail, everyone is willing to lend a hand, give a trail tip, warn other hikers about a long stretch with no water, share some food, give up some of their precious filtered water so that a hiker short on water can have a cup of coffee, make room at the picnic table, and lift up and encourage each other.   It does not matter if a person is a day hiker, over nighter, week long section hiker, or a thru-hiker on a 6 month journey.  On the trail, we are all just hikers.   We commiserate together about the tough climbs, and we celebrate together the small victories.  It’s sad to me that as a nation, we’ve lost sight of that common bond of being ‘Americans’, and instead of working together for a greater good, we tear each other down at the earliest chance we get.   Perhaps we all need to spend some time on the trail and learn to embrace what we have in common and learn to appreciate what we don’t.

Happy Trails…

The Appalachian Trail through Shenandoah National Park proved to be a real treat. As we made our way south, the trail would continually change personalities…occasionally flat and fast, other times rocky and steep, with a mix of less technical but seemingly never ending climbs thrown in just to make things interesting. Water was abundant and campsites were close enough together as to not make for unbearably long days. Add to that spectacular views and abundant sunshine, and the end result was a great week of hiking.

Shepherd’s Pie…

This year, we were pretty confident in our ability to get off the trail in 6 days, so we already had a place to stay booked for that last night.   We tried to find something conveniently located to an establishment that would serve some delicious hoppe goodness and pretty much any food that wasn’t prepared by adding boiling water and letting it sit for 10 minutes.   Somewhere along the way, Jim got it in his head that he wanted Shepherd’s pie that last night.  I don’t know why, but it became his weeklong obsession.  Despite my warnings of likely disappointment and as bad luck would have it, the only Irish Pub in Front Royal, VA had gone out of business earlier this year.  Jim handled the news quite well, and finding a micro brewery that served some corned beef, albeit wrapped in rye bread in the form of a reuben, seemed to provide some contentment.   Despite the disappointment, our first real meal in a week was beyond delicious, and gave us some time to reflect on a nearly perfect week of hiking and start planning next year’s adventure.

You probably wouldn’t understand…

Life on the Appalachian trail is pretty special.  It’s fun, but not all fun.  It’s hard, but not too hard to handle.  It’s exhausting and rejuvenating at the same time.   It’s work and play all wrapped up in one package.  It’s three quarters of a marathon up and down mountains with thirty pounds on your back, repeated daily, for six days in a row.  It’s taking that next step when you don’t really think you have another step left in you.   It’s really an experience quite like no other.   I wasn’t home a week and I was already looking forward to the next time I could get back out on the trail.   I’ve tried to explain the experience to my friends and my family, but most of them only hear the words one hundred miles, no showers, bear boxes, freeze dried meals, and they look at me like I’ve lost my mind.   …and perhaps I have, I don’t know.   But, maybe, just maybe, losing one’s mind every once in a while is the perfect way to find one’s soul.

I was born into a family of car lovers.  My dad’s dad, was a huge car buff, and though his preacher’s income didn’t give him the opportunity to own the latest and greatest vehicles, he’d still make the annual pilgrimage to the local Ford, Lincoln, and Mercury dealers to check out the newest models and come home with the new brochures.  Yes, there were other car brands, but they might just as well have been manufactured by the devil himself.   Though, he did once tell me he married my Grandma because she came with a Pontiac.  

My dad inherited this same love of vehicles, along with his siblings.  The recent Facebook trend of posting car pictures brought a smile to my face, because my dad actually had a photo album of all the cars he had owned over the years.   As a kid, our Sunday afternoons were often filled with taking drives, oftentimes those drives were down off the mountaintop to the big city of Catskill, NY to drive around the car lots, so we could browse without the pressure of a commission driven salesman.  

It’s really no surprise that my brother and I are both car fans.   Even my uncle on my mom’s side was a car nut.  We were doomed.  Starting out with our collections of Matchbox cars as kids, we both could not wait to get our first set of wheels.   The freedom of owning a car of my own, even if that car wasn’t much to look at, was a freedom worth working for.   Summer nights with the windows down, music blaring, and the twisty mountain roads are still some of my fondest memories.

Now, there’s something I have learned over the years.   Not everybody loves cars the way I do and the way my family has.  Rumor has it, that for some folks, cars are simply transportation.  As hard as that may be to believe, I have witnessed it with my very own eyes.  People buying cars based on things like practicality, fuel mileage, and even reliability.  Three variables that have never once influenced one of my car buying decisions.

Being the curious type, I decided to do some research into this phenomenon.   According to our friends over at Merriam-Webster, Transportation means an act, process, or instance of transporting…which then led me to research the word transport….and here’s where it all became very clear.  

There are two very different definitions for the word transport…

1  : to transfer or convey from one place to another
2  : to carry away with strong and often intensely pleasant emotion

It appears that my family completely skipped over definition 1 and went directly to definition number 2.   …and much to my surprise, there’s an entire population stuck on definition number 1.   Can they be saved?

You see, for me, it’s both the joy of owning a vehicle that strikes an emotional chord deep within my being, and the act of driving that vehicle down a country road or any road for that matter, that carry me away with a strong and often intensely pleasant emotion.

When I was in Kindergarten, I’d ride to school with my dad.   He was a high school English teacher in our one building K-12 school of 500 kids.   My dad drove a Plymouth Roadrunner back in those days.  A muscle car with a 383 cubic inch engine and a cartoon character on the side of it, what could be better.  It was a different time back then, and on more than one occasion, we’d experience a spirited ride home in reaction to one of my dad’s hot rod driving students referring to his pride and joy as a Road Chicken.   On those days, these particular students were schooled in far more than the subject of English.  

I’ve owned quite a few vehicles since my first car purchase.   Some of those purchases were purely emotional, an uncontrollable urge to own a particular vehicle, often influenced by the horsepower rating of the vehicle in question.   Other purchases were made for financial reasons or the necessity of affordable insurance, often a problem brought on by actions taken in a previous vehicle purchased primarily on horsepower ratings.   I can say that never once have I made a purchase based on a consumer reports article.

There are really very few things that are more enjoyable than taking a drive solely for the purpose of taking a drive.  Pulling out of the driveway, with no planned destination, no planned route other than seeking out only backroads, and letting the drive take you where it wants you to go.   Any vehicle, when used in such a manner, can provide great amounts of joy and satisfaction.   Now, I will say that having the right vehicle for the particular ride will certainly increase the grin factor.

But, let’s not forget the pure joy of vehicular ownership.   Purchasing a vehicle is no small feat.  Not only does it require a significant outlay of cash, but even the negotiation and buying process can be overwhelming for some.  For those reasons alone, you should always buy a car that makes you smile in some way…whether that be for the color, the shape, the emblem, or the powerplant hidden beneath the hood.   The best kind of car is one that causes you to turn around and take a second glance as you are walking away from it in the parking lot.

My dad bought a lot of cars.   There was always a clever dose of justification given to my mother before each purchase, but the underlying reason was always the fact that he just wanted to buy a new car. It was one of the things that gave him the most joy in life.  When my brother and I followed in his footsteps, this was one area where my dad did not have a parental leg to stand on.   What a glorious thing… youthful foolishness completely immune to parental criticism.

Well, that was until the year Two Thousand and Eleven.   

Ever since my Matchbox car days, I had a dream car. When I was 9 years old, I spent my hard earned allowance money, which was fifty cents a week, on a Porsche 911 Carrera Matchbox car, painted in what may have been the ugliest shade of metallic brown ever to leave an aerosol can.   …but despite the paint color, that’s when it happened.   From that moment on, my vehicular compass pointed directly towards Stuttgart Germany.   Even my second vehicle, a 1978 Volkswagen Scirocco with a mere 68 horsepower, displayed enough of that fine european handling that it only solidified my position that I wanted to own the ultimate German sports car.

My first job out of college was at Eastman Kodak Company.   Though I thoroughly enjoyed my years there, it was at a time where the world no longer needed film and paper to capture a photo.  Given this interesting time, the guarantee of lifetime employment no longer existed, and it only seemed prudent to set aside some money in the event that my relationship with my employer was cut short due to corporate cost cutting efforts.  Fortunately this never occurred, however, I did decide to part ways with Kodak and move to a company with a brighter future.  Shortly after changing jobs, my buddy told me about a very reasonably priced seven year old Porsche Boxster that he had seen on a car lot.  No longer in fear of losing my source of income, I traded my layoff fund for that Porsche Boxster.   Though it still wasn’t the 911 Carrera that I had set my sights on in the mid seventies, it scratched nearly all of the itches, and was an extremely fun vehicle to drive.   If you’ve never driven a Porsche with a flat 6 engine, and experienced the spectacular howl it lets out as the tachometer approaches the redline, you probably would not understand the sheer joy it brings.

I drove that car for the next 5 years, making some modifications to personalize it to my liking, and then a miracle occurred (at least that is how I interpreted it).  Through a series of conversations, I learned of a friend of my brother that was looking for a sports car…and boy, did I have a deal for him.  With a guaranteed sale in hand, I started to scour the classifieds for an affordable used 911.   It did not take too long until I located a very reasonably priced 5 year old 911 Carrera sitting on the showroom floor of a Nissan dealer in Wichita Kansas.  When I shared the news with my dad, something terrible happened, that disapproving tone that I had experienced many times before, was there.  “Why do you need to buy a different car?” he asked.   “Your Boxster is perfect and plenty fast”.   My dad’s hesitation was likely warranted, due to the damage I had once before caused to a high powered sports car in a moment of poor judgement and zealous acceleration.  But, as I had many times before, I filed his caution in the undue parental worrying bucket, and in March 2011, I jumped onto an airplane with my 16 year old son, flew to Kansas, and drove my new-to-me sports car home.   Before I even got to my house, I stopped at my dad’s to show him my dream car.   He looked it over carefully and showed some cautious enthusiasm, but I could tell, he still had not warmed up to the idea.

A couple weeks later, my son and I drove over to visit my dad.  As we were talking, my son said “Grandpa, you should drive Dad’s new car”.  My dad’s health was not the best, but he agreed, and we made our way out to the 911.  My dad took the driver’s seat, I jumped in the passenger seat, and my dad handed me his oxygen tank to hang on to…yes, you just read that correctly   We made our way out of the village, and turned on to a 55 MPH stretch of road that passed through miles and miles of farmland.   As he rowed through the gears, he gave it a heavy dose of throttle, and soon we were approaching twice the posted speed limit as we made our way through the countryside.   I can only assume that if observing the speed limit is lawful, observing it a second time is twice as lawful.    We got to a good turn around point and he broke the rear end of the car free as he once again put the car through its paces.   He looked at me with a great big smile and said “man, this power is addicting”.   It was at that very moment I knew, my dad approved of my latest car purchase. 

You see, a car is far more than mere transportation.  This is something my Grandpa was keenly aware of, my dad was aware of, and I am aware of.   A car is the gateway to adventure, a source of freedom to explore, a generator of smiles, and a moving memory maker.  Some of my best memories are of times riding in a car with friends and family experiencing life on the open road.   

During these days of quarantine, a lot of our normal activities and hobbies are off limits  But, you can still take a ride.   So consider packing up the kids, throw some snacks in a backpack, jump in your transportation vehicle of choice, head out onto the road and turn, in any direction, and just drive and see where it takes you.  You may just realize that your transportation vehicle wants to be far more than transportation, and just wants to “carry you away with a strong and intensely pleasant emotion”.

I love to hike.  I guess when you boil it down, a hike is really just a walk with a little more purpose.  There’s something pure about stepping foot onto a trail with an intended destination. Oftentimes, that destination rises above a valley floor reaching towards the heavens in such a way that you can actually see it from where you stand.  Other times, your only indication of your destination is a point listed on a wooden sign with a number indicating how many miles you have to go to reach it. What I also love about a hike is that it is an experience relatively unchanged and undestroyed by technology.  Sure, we may now carry a GPS instead of a compass, and a cell phone instead of an old Kodak Instamatic camera, and our clothes may have fancier properties that the marketing types use to convince us of their worth, but it’s still a hike and the experience is still the same.  I often hike the same trails my grandfather hiked 50 years ago, and I picture him on those trails, and realize that the emotions I am feeling at that exact moment are likely very similar to those he felt decades earlier. If I were forced to give up all my hobbies, I think hiking and music would be the last two I’d hang on to…and if it really came to a final choice, I’d likely choose hiking, cuz I could always sing while out on the trail.

There are a lot of great hikes in the Catskill Mountains.   Many offer challenging climbs, or great distances, or nice views, or cool things to check out along the way.  The Overlook Mountain and Echo Lake hike is one that checks off every box and should definitely be on your “hikes I need to do in the Catskills” list.

Before I go much further, you will see that there are a lot of hike articles out there on the interwebs with detailed mile markers, special instructions, GPS tracks, tips and tricks to guarantee your hiking success, and much much more.   This will clearly not be one of them. Think of this more like story time with Mr. Rogers, minus the cardigan, stuffed animals, and trolley.

The trailhead for Overlook Mountain is on Meads Mountain Road, about 3 miles outside of the village of Woodstock, NY (the actual town…not to be confused with the site of the epic musical festival that took place in 1969).   The great thing about this particular hike, is that depending on your energy level, you can either make the full trek over Overlook Mountain to Echo Lake and make it a 9+ mile hike, or just climb Overlook Mountain, making it about a 5 mile hike. 

The Overlook Mountain summit is at 3,140’ and is home to one of the Catskill Mountain Fire towers.   The climb to the summit is steady, gaining about 700’ per mile, but since it follows a service road the whole way, it is not a very technical hike.  One of the real treats of this hike comes at about the 2 mile mark, the site of the Overlook Mountain House. The mountain house went through several iterations of being built, burning down, and being rebuilt from the early 1800’s through the early 1900’s.  The current ruins were never actually completed (per advanced research on wikipedia) and became the property of New York State in the 1940’s, suffering one final fire in the 1960’s. However, due to its concrete construction, there’s a lot of structure still standing providing some great photo ops.  If you’re interested in more details of questionable accuracy, do a google search on the Overlook Mountain House…there’s a lot to read out there.

Getting back to the hiking, rumor has it, that the next 3 miles or so are home to literally hundreds of Timber Rattlesnakes.  We were hiking on a crisp fall day, and did not have the privilege of seeing any along or on the trail, but the posted warning signs would indicate that the rumors hold some truth.  So, if snakes cause you any stress in life, especially poisonous snakes, this may not be the hike for you. The climb after leaving the mountain house site remains steady to the point where you can continue on to the summit and the fire tower, or head towards Echo Lake.  The day we hiked it, we chose to go to Echo Lake first and leave the fire tower for the way back.

As you head to Echo Lake, the trail descends at a pretty good clip and you lose most of the elevation you gained.  At this point, the trail is a typical Catskill Mountain single track. After a couple miles, you arrive at Echo Lake.   There is a lean-to and a few primitive campsites, and a trail around the lake. As you walk around the trail, there are several downed trees, the handiwork of beavers…and a dam at the outlet end of the lake, also the handiwork of beavers.  Oh, and in case you were wondering, if you let out a yell or even a yodel, you will hear an echo that usually resembles the thing you originally yelled or yodeled. I can’t tell you that Echo Lake received its name based on the reverberating effect at the lake, but if it did, I can honestly say it would not be a lie.

At this point, you have to back track the trail you just came down, and head back up to the junction of the Overlook Mountain trail.  The final ascent to the Overlook Mountain summit is steady, but a little more gradual at this point. As you reach the top, you’ll see the fire tower.   We were hiking later in the season, so the observation deck was not open, but you could still climb just shy of that point….and despite the rickety steps, and the strong wind, the views from the tower were well worth the climb.   One thing about this particular hike, perhaps due to the proximity to Woodstock, or the non technical nature of the climb, is there are quite a few people. So, don’t be surprised if the summit is a bit crowded.

The hike back to the trailhead parking is once again a non technical stroll down the access road, but with 7 miles on your legs by this point, an easier descent to end your hike may be a good thing.

If you do the whole hike, you will have ended up logging 9.4 miles and climbing just a tick under 2,400’.   Though a relatively good workout for an afternoon hike, the great sights along the way really make this one of the more enjoyable hikes in the Catskill mountains.  No, this one won’t count towards the Catskill Mountain 3500’ peak list, but sometimes, it’s just fun to take a hike for the sake of taking a hike.  

A quick trip into the village of Woodstock to check out some of the local shops and grab a coffee is a great way to end a day on the trails and complete the Catskill Mountain experience.

If you’re in the Catskills and looking for an approachable hike that provides all the best a hike can provide, I would highly recommend the Overlook Mountain and Echo Lake hike.   Great climbs, spectacular views, and really neat points of interest make it a tough one to beat.

Yeah, I really like hiking… and if you try this one, you may just find that you might like hiking too!

With the framing complete, it was now time to get this sugar shack weathertight. (To read about the framing, check out part I of our project)

Metal roofing is the traditional roofing choice for sugar shacks…and I was certainly not going to stray from tradition.  This was the part of my project I worried about the most. Metal roofing requires a perfectly square roof and getting the panels running straight right from the get go.  My only other metal roofing experience was a tiny wood shed and to say that turned out as desired would be an untruth of epic proportion. With a lot of roofing to install, and both my daylight hours, and the hours my buddy Adam could help me running short, the pressure was on, but after much sweating, fretting, and occasional frustration…the metal roof was in place, and aside from a couple screws that were not seated completely, it was and still is leak free.

Typically this was the point in a building project where I’d be so focused on getting done, that it would take the fun out of it.  But, I kept focusing on some words that my dad told me during one of my earlier building projects. He said “don’t wish for it to be over, the building is the fun part, enjoy it”.   With those words ringing in my head, and a grin on my face, I was ready to tackle the next phase of construction.

Again, sticking with tradition, I wanted my sugar shack to be clothed in board and batten siding.   For those that don’t know, this is a type of siding where wide boards (called boards ) are installed vertically, and narrow strips of lumber (called battens) are placed over the gap between the boards.  I ordered some rough cut hemlock from a local lumber company. I soon learned that rough cut 1”x12”x16’ boards, that were in a full sized tree only days earlier, are heavy, very heavy. Working against weather, and often losing, I worked quickly to get these soggy planks hanging on my building.   With temperatures down into the teens, if I was going to get this thing closed in, I was going to have to keep working.

When I first picked the spot to build my building, from a casual glance, the ground looked relatively level.  Perhaps I was standing with one foot in a hole, because it wasn’t until I started framing that I realized there was about a 12” drop in grade from right to left.  I took a momentary break from siding, to haul 10 tons of crusher run to bring the grade to level. Before starting this project, I had purchased the smallest Kubota tractor and a front end loader to go with it.   I believe with this one task the tractor paid for itself….to this day, the woman who shares my last name, disagrees.

With the grade leveled, I finished up the siding and worked through all the trim details, battens, and building all my doors.  I had seen a pretty neat window setup using barn sashes and a tilt-in design that I used for all my windows. I had also seen a clever design for the cupola doors that would allow them to open upward and keep the weather out while boiling.  The trickiest part of that task was figuring out the pulley placement so that a grown man could actually provide enough force to open said cupola doors; with some trial and error, I got that all figured out.

I don’t know why, because it’s certainly not the norm, but I wanted a wooden plank floor in my sugar shack.   This posed a bit of a problem because wood fired syrup evaporators can be a fire hazard with a wooden floor underneath them.  There are ways to protect the wood, but none of them seemed as safe as I thought they should be. I decided that I wanted to put a large paver hearth under the evaporator area.  To keep moisture at bay, promote good drainage, and to ensure a level base, I put down 4” of gravel on top of the crusher run. I framed the floor with pressure treated 4”x4” sleepers.  I boxed in the area where the pavers would be installed, filled that area with paver base, leveling sand, and then placed the pavers so that they would sit level with the wood flooring. I put a vapor barrier on top of the sleepers and for flooring, and installed 1”x10” pine for floor boards.   The end result was the old timey barn look and feel with a fireproof hearth area. I was thrilled with how it turned out …and I had finished this last bit of construction 4 months to the day from when I started.

While I was building,  I had ordered a 2’x3’ hobby sized Evaporator from Mason Evaporators in Maine.   Unfortunately it arrived a little too late to use for the 2019 season. Without the pressure to get set up for boiling, I took a break for a few months and spent some time taking care of other projects that had been neglected during the build.

The next thing on the to-do list was to get the stack through the roof and connected to the evaporator.   I did not have the heart to put a hole in my new metal roof, or enough chimney assembling experience to convince myself that I needed to install the stack myself, so I reached out to Crocker’s Hardware in Leroy, NY to do the honors.  What would have taken me days of fret, worry, and potential catastrophic results, was done in a day’s time. If I were to do this part over again, I would either have framed the roof so the stack could go straight up, or would have placed the hearth off center, but I did neither of those things, and ended up with a slight bend in the stack. It did not seem to effect performance of the evaporator.

With a particularly wet spring and early summer, I had to wait for a long enough dry stretch to get some stain on the siding.   I picked up a pro-sumer grade sprayer, and in the course of a day, was able to get two coats of stain protecting the hemlock siding.  Based on some input from a friend with a lot of rough lumber experience, I ended up using Flood CWF-UV5 Transparent Stain for my finish.

The other task I decided to hire was getting the electrical run from the house to the shack.  A 50 AMP service would be the best choice to meet the power needs of the shack. To save some money, I signed up to trenching the 100 yards from the house to the shack and lay the wire.  While the trench was open, I ran some direct burial ethernet cable so that I could eventually have internet in the shack. I’m not sure if the money I saved was worth the trenching time, but I did unearth a random kitchen spoon from my backyard, which provided some moments of head scratching as to how such an item would find its way there.  A mystery still unsolved to this very day. The electrician hooked everything up, and with the panel box in place, I took it from there and ran all the lighting and outlet circuits in the shack.  

It was about at this point where I completely lost sight of the shack part of this project, and turned it into an exercise in carpentry creativity.   The overpriced galvanized barn lights and metal clad wiring should have been the first indication that I was taking things too far, but sometimes these things are lost on me.

For those not that close to the maple syrup process, a lot of sugarers use Reverse Osmosis (RO) to remove a large amount of water from the sap before boiling.   Not only does this save time, but saves on fuel cost to run the evaporator. I don’t currently have a Reverse Osmosis setup, but knowing that someday I might want that, and knowing I wanted some running water in shack, I built a small 3’x8’ insulated and heated closet that could house a 65 gallon fresh water barrel, small water heater, on demand water pump…and eventually my RO setup.   I closed the closet in with leftover siding materials. I built a beefy open cabinet to hold a stainless steel wash tub and had some soapstone countertop sections cut out of a remnant from the local stone shop. I installed this next to the utility closet and ran a drain from the sink out to a gray water well about 15’ away from the building.

Now that all the ‘essentials’ were in place, it was time to think about the optional features that would come in handy once the shack was in use.   I was definitely going to need some shelves for storage and additional work surfaces. I built an overhead shelf to hold sap buckets. My buddy gave me an old metal workbench that needed some fresh paint and a new work top.  A night in the workshop with some leftover framing materials took care of that. I put a narrow shelf above the sink area and turned that into a mini maple museum, decorated with old syrup tins, sap buckets, and other maple memorabilia.  I was looking for a place for people to sit when they were hanging out during the sugaring season. A common suggestion on the forums was a picnic table. I still had some of the scaffolding materials that I used for framing the roof. Despite the screw holes and foot prints, these made for a great picnic table.   The last thing I needed to build was a platform to hold my sap barrels. I build that out of pressure treated materials and set it up under the overhang section of the building.

At this point, having completely blown my original budget, construction was complete and all that was left to do was to wait out the winter and think about the day the sap would start running…. 

I had finally done it.   After years of scheming and dreaming, I finally put hammer to nail and built myself an honest to goodness sugar shack.   The extra touches, though not at all necessary really add to the look and feel of the building.

And for those wondering, the sap did finally start to run, and I tapped 25 trees and was able to make about 6 gallons of delicious maple syrup.  Everything in the shack worked out really well, from the evaporator, to all the work surfaces, to the running water and even the cupola doors.   

These days, when I look out over the back yard while enjoying my morning coffee, it almost looks like a scene from New England.   The extra touches and extra dollars that went along with them were definitely worth it. I’ve done a lot of building over the years, but I can honestly say that nothing was as fun and as rewarding as my old timey sugar shack.

Resources used in this phase of construction:

Armor Building Supply - Metal Roofing

Crocker's Ace Hardware - Chimney Install

Jay E. Potter Lumber Company - Rough Cut Hemlock

M.C.M. Natural Stone - Soapstone Countertops

Mason Custom Welding - Maple Syrup Evaporator

I’ll admit I’ve lost track of exactly how long we’ve been trying to live lives of isolation and social distancing.  Most days, I’m not entirely sure what day of the week it is. And, even though I’m still working my day job, only from the confines of my home, there must be something about that drive to and from the office that provides a better sense of counting the days…a delineation of time that is emphasized by actually getting in and of one’s particular mode of transportation.   I’m not even the type of person that is on the go during the regular work week all that much, rarely eat out, hit up any stores, or do all that much out of the daily routine on Monday – Friday. But, I’m finding there are parts of my daily routine that I miss… the pre-work run with my running buddy, the stop to my favorite coffee shop on my way to work, the morning catch up time with my coworkers, having a face to face meeting, and the freedom to know that if I really need a new pair of running shoes, today, I can go to the store and buy them.

I think the strangest phenomenon may be the extra calories it seems to take to remain isolated.   I mean, I can’t eat enough. I noticed the other day as my family finished lunch, we were trying to decide what time we’d be eating dinner, and then how long after that would we eat our brownie sundaes.  Now, don’t get me wrong, we are blessed beyond measure in that we have these luxuries, but I’m to a point that my pre-isolation britches no longer fit my mid-isolation physique. We have a real problem here.

Petty struggles aside, there are some really good things going on in the world during this time of crisis, and maybe paying attention to these is good for the soul.

Time with Family

I’m thinking our son may not see the positive in this…but ‘family time’ has gone through the roof.   We eat meals together, play games, work on puzzles, house projects, take rides, and watch movies. We’re back to simpler times.   It’s like Little House on the Prairie here… minus the prairie, and the horses, and the crying that happened every episode…oh, and the whole electricity, internet, and automobiles thing.

Free Concerts

I’m a huge music fan and I love going to a live show.   The number of artists, both big and small, that have decided to live stream performances has been amazing.   What’s really cool is the ability to then ‘attend’ those concerts with family and friends. A local singer songwriter, Chris Wilson, has been live streaming two concerts a week.   It’s been fun to share his live stream link with people and ‘watch together’. We text, and Facebook Message, and just sit back and enjoy the gift of music together, yet ‘distanced’.   It’s the coolest thing.

Keeping Occupied

Since the Social Distancing edict came out, it seems that companies and organizations are stepping up to provide resources to keep yourself busy.   I’ve seen free virtual museum tours, a bunch of online workouts to help stay fit at home during this time, but I think one of my favorite things has come from Audi.   Now, I will admit to having a bit of a soft spot in my heart for German automobiles, but the Audi coloring book is one of my absolute favorite things to be announced since our ‘stay at home’ philosophy went into effect.  I’m torn between the R8 on page 12 and the rally car on page 10.    Where are my colored pencils?

Companies Doing Good Things

It has been great to see so many companies stepping during this crisis.   Mortgage companies are waving payments, companies like ROKU are offering premium channels for free, I even got a message that Verizon was giving us 15GB of data usage for no charge.  Some companies are offering better sick time coverage and a lot of grocery companies are offering pay increases to some of their employees during this crisis. All great stuff. All nice gestures during a time of uncertainty.

Magical Musical Moments

Along with all of the live streaming concerts, many artists are posting scaled back performances from their homes.   It’s a neat glimpse into the everyday lives of some of the musicians I most admire, and makes them feel a little more ‘human’.   Even though I’ll likely never meet any of these performers, it’s nice to see them in a little less ‘polished’ light. I’m a big Norah Jones fan, and watching her cover Patience by Guns and Roses was an unexpected treat.  

… and Steve Martin was getting into the mix with some great banjo performances….   These are just a couple samples, but lots of musicians are opening up their homes and their hearts to spread a little joy at a time when we could use it the most.

 Checking Things off the List

There has never been a better time to check things off the to-do list than now.   There are garages needing organizing. Photo collections needing sorted. Closets needing pruning….but save the pre-diet clothes, this thing may go on for a while.  With all excuses being rendered useless, now is the time to work through that to-do list that you’ve been avoiding for so long.

Supporting Local Businesses

This is a tough time for local businesses.   With many of them being told to close their doors or restrict their offerings, it’s more important than ever to show them support in any way they can.  Many restaurants are offering delivery or curbside pickup. Some businesses are promoting ordering online for delivery. And, if you’re nervous about the human contact, you can even consider buying some gift cards to use once this whole thing is over, and help these businesses stay afloat until that day comes.

People Coming Together

One of the things that I like the least about Social Media is all the negativity.   The polarized political climate is more than I can take most days. We tend to focus more on our differences than our similarities. It has been a bit encouraging that ‘some’ of that has settled down during this time of crisis.  COVID-19 shows no preferences.  None of the things that tend to drive us apart matter, we are all equally susceptible to getting ill. If nothing else, this virus has shown us that we are more alike than we are different and we are in this together. ….and people are acting that way. I continue to hear stories about people rising to the occasion to do good, to help each other, to make a difference, to do what they can to make someone smile. Quite honestly, it gives me hope.

Laughter is the best Medicine

There’s a saying that laughter is the best medicine. Now, I’m no doctor, so can’t confirm or deny those claims, but I’d like to believe they are true. I see a lot of folks posting pictures and videos of things to lighten the mood, and I think that’s a good thing. Some of the memes about social distancing, staying at home, home schooling, continually eating are hilarious. So, I’m going with the belief that the more I laugh the healthier I will be…and I’d suggest you do the same

That pretty much wraps this piece up. Certainly not an exhaustive list, but some of the positive things I’ve noticed since this whole thing started. There’s a lot to be nervous about these days.  There’s a lot of uncertainty, a lot to worry about. But if you take a minute to pay attention to things around you, there is good to be found.  All you have to do is look for it!

I can’t say that my dad and I always saw eye to eye on every subject, and I suspect that’s normal.   For us, there were a handful of life’s passions that we shared… the love of carpentry, automobiles, guitars, and faith.   As my dad’s health declined and he couldn’t really actively participate in building things and his car hobby had lost a bit of it’s luster, the one thing that remained a priority was guitars…well, I guess I should say music.

For the last few years of my dad’s life, I was a worship leader at a local church.   We’d practice every Thursday night, and my dad’s place was on the way home from band practice.  Coincidentally my mom often worked on Thursday nights at a local shop that sells the kind of stuff Joanna Gaines uses to decorate the houses she remodels.  So, I got in the habit of visiting my dad nearly every Thursday night following band practice. …oftentimes, I’d bring my guitar in and we’d spend an hour strumming, singing, talking, and just sharing our passion for the sound of a high quality six string.

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of guitars, and still have many of those guitars.  But there have been those times that I’ve sold one of them. Sometimes it was because I had made a rushed decision and once I actually had some time with a guitar, I found it wasn’t really as good as I had hoped it would be.  Other times it was to free up some cash to make an upgrade, or simply because the guitar was rarely played. My dad went through the same phase in the 2000’s.. He started selling, swapping, and trading guitars until he ended up with the collection that provided the greatest grin factor.  I will admit, I regret selling a couple of my guitars.

My dad’s and my music taste was often quite different.  I used to pick on my dad because the music he liked often seemed to be void of drums and a driving bass line…it was more mellow… more ‘easy listening’ as they call it.   To a young guy that was obsessed with the likes of the Eagles, ELO, Genesis, and the Beatles, there was nothing ‘easy’ about listening to my Dad’s music. But, we still connected…and spent many hours with guitars hanging from our necks, or gathered around a piano, enjoying the power of a song.   When Eric Clapton performed his Unplugged concert on MTV in 1992, my dad’s and my musical worlds collided. We finally had a common musical interest…and my dad became obsessed with Clapton’s guitar sound.

After trying to capture that same sound for many years, my dad finally became the proud caretaker of a Martin 000-28EC Eric Clapton model acoustic guitar.  A smaller bodied guitar with action as smooth as butter, and a mellow tone that just begged you to play some bluesy chords and tasteful licks up the modified V neck.

When I’d show up for my Thursday night visits, quite often my dad would have one of his guitars set out.  I never really knew what I’d find…would it be his Gretsch Country Gentleman, his American Fender Telecaster, or his Clapton Martin acoustic.  Usually he’d hand me the guitar and ask me to play something. Those were great times….and I quickly became quite fond of that Martin guitar. It wasn’t long until I was scheming to get one of my own.  

I don’t know if my dad wanted me to get something different than his, or thought I’d be happier with a guitar with factory electronics, but shortly after I started working on the reasons of justification every married guitar player goes through, he told me about the Martin OMJM, a John Mayer signature series acoustic.  Based on the same body style as my dad’s guitar, it had some differences, but still had a similar ‘retro’ vibe, and came wired with a pickup right from the Martin factory. My dad started sending me videos of guys reviewing the guitar.   

With a solid case in place and assumed spousal approval, as one never knows for sure if approval was given until the first argument after the purchase, I made my way up to the great House of Guitars and worked out a deal on a brand spankin new Martin OMJM.   Far too expensive for a player of my skill level, but this purchase wasn’t just for me. This purchase was for me and my dad. While the guitar was on order, my dad continued to send me videos of the guitar in action. Even the night we went to pick it up, he called us on our way home to see if we got it OK.  He was as excited as I was about this new guitar.

I got that guitar the week before Christmas in 2010.   I stopped by my dad’s on Christmas eve eve to show it to him.  He got out his Clapton model and we strummed and swapped our two guitars, doing our best to notice the differences and the similarities.   Neither of us professional reviewers, but each of us doing our best to pretend.

At 10:59PM on that same Christmas eve eve, I got this email from my dad…

Hi,

Thanks for stopping by with your new guitar. It is beautiful! There are subtle differences between the two, and yet they look and feel and sound quite similar. I can’t say I like one more than the other.

We are both pretty fortunate; wouldn’t you say?

Love ya lots,
Dad

…and at that point, I knew buying this guitar had been the perfect decision.

That was the last Christmas I’d get to spend with my dad. This guitar, the research, the anticipation, and then actually playing it gave my dad something to look forward to. This guitar gave us one more father and son experience. It was probably the last ‘project’ we got to work on together…and one that I will never forget.

Since that time, this guitar has had hours and hours of strum time… it’s been played in churches, at parties, weddings, funerals, coffee houses, concerts, and even Christmas functions at work.  It’s a better guitar than I am a guitar player, but that really does not bother me. …because it’s the guitar that my dad and I bought.

Yeah, I’ve sold some guitars over the years….but no, I will never sell this guitar.

I love making maple syrup…and I love carpentry.   Two totally unrelated activities, until recently.

You see, I am a hobby maple syrup producer… they call us backyard sugarers to be exact…and that’s exactly where I’ve done my sugaring til now…in the backyard and in the elements.   For those that don’t know, maple syrup is not the stuff you find in that bottle labeled pancake syrup or table syrup. No, that is an imposter to the pure gooey goodness that can only be created by collecting large amounts of sap from a maple tree and boiling it down for ridiculously long hours to end up with the tiniest portion of pure maple syrup.

Check out our article on backyard sugarin for more on maple syrup…

Before I begin, I will inform you that I am not an architect or even a professional carpenter by day.  It is a trade I learned from my dad, starting at the young age of 13 and have continued to love to this very day.  I’m writing this article because when I was searching for ideas on sugar shack construction, it was hard to find a source containing the details I was looking for. That being said, if you are an aspiring sugarer building a sugar shack, and choose to mimic any of the techniques I used in the construction of my own sugar shack, I am not responsible for any misfortune that may come your way as a result of said actions.   I believe my structure to be of sound design and has already withstood hurricane force winds and heavy snows, but that could be pure dumb luck, and your results may vary.

With the legal disclaimers clearly stated, let’s carry on with the article…

I have always liked the look of the traditional sugar shack…and back where I came from, many of them were just that, small shacks with a metal chimney sticking out of the roof with an opening cupola on it to let out the copious amount of steam that is produced when boiling maple sap.  For many years, I’ve been trying to convince my wife that we needed one of these structures on our property. Now, don’t get me wrong, a structure like this is barely justified for our couple acre parcel and is certainly not justified by the size of my maple sugaring operation. Having never tapped more than eight maples, one could barely form a case for even dedicating a small garden shed to an operation of this size, let alone a full sized building.

Having never been accused of making decisions completely out of necessity, in the summer of 2018 I must have caught my wife in a moment of weakness, and I successfully convinced her that a project such as this would not only make my maple sugaring more enjoyable, but it would add to the value of our property in the event that we ever had a desire to sell…quickly, perhaps an event brought on by one’s bride leaving him on account of foolish spending…something like that.  But spousal approval was only the first step in this quest to construct a fine ‘New Englandy’ sugar shack. I was going to need the town’s approval as well. I had already burned my ‘outbuilding allowance’ with the construction of my first ‘shed’ that has become the home for motorized sources of happiness and essential lawn care machinery over the years. Since I was going to have to get official municipal permission, I figured I might as well ask for as big a building as I had the time and the money to construct.   So, I did exactly that.

There was a traditional sugar shack design I found on the University of Vermont website for a 24’x16’ building with a 12’x16’ overhang for storing firewood and other items that needed protection from the elements.  It seemed to provide most of the things I was looking for and was a decent size for my property. I did tweak the design some, a steeper roof, more windows, different doors, and a few other things to put a bit of my own twist on the building. After pleading with the powers that be and promising to not turn said structure into a retail maple establishment, I was granted the necessary permission to commence construction of my very own sugar shanty.

I decided on pole barn construction as my framing method of choice for this building project.  I had never actually built a pole barn style building, but there were enough videos on the youtubes that convinced me that despite lacking proper training, I could pull this off.  Unfortunately, due to last minute planning, the delay of government negotiations, and an untimely toppling of a large tree on my building site, I was not even getting started until mid September.   With days already becoming shorter and mornings becoming cooler, I enlisted the help of my buddy Adam, who had some time available, to assist me with the parts of my project where a helping hand would make all the difference.

With some stakes in the ground and some strings outlining the designated location, I rented a post hole digger to dig the 14 holes required for the posts that would support the structure.   In typical fashion, renting equipment from your local big box store can prove entertaining. At one point the recoil cord came off in my hand when starting the beast, only to soon be followed by getting the auger stuck 4 feet deep in our wonderful western NY clay, requiring hand digging an adjacent 4 foot hole to release it.  With all the holes dug, we tossed in some cement in the bottom of each to provide a solid footing for the 4”x6” posts that we’d be setting.

Now, at this point, I’m sure there are those construction gurus that have more experience than I with this whole pole barn building thing, that are thinking to themselves that this guy should have filled the holes with gravel, or perhaps encased the posts in concrete, or poured concrete posts… yep, all valid thoughts.  But, it seems that there are more opinions on how to actually set poles for a pole building than there are actually pole buildings in the world, so I went with a post on a concrete footer backfilled with soil. I did spend the extra money to order the higher quality pressure treating for my poles, and I’m gonna hope that through the modern science of fancy chemicals, my posts outlive me.

The beauty of pole barn construction is that you make a lot of progress quite quickly and it doesn’t take too long to have something that looks like a real building standing in your backyard.   What I came to learn is this is really just a false sense of hope, and that everything else beyond this point would take longer than expected. Having never built a pole barn before, what I found was that squaring up a building that is nothing more than a bunch of posts sticking out of the ground and swaying in the wind can prove to be somewhat of a challenge.  It’s a lot like trying to align the trees in the forest after they are fully grown.

With the posts and nailing girts in place, it was time to frame upward.  The plans from the Vermont site had a neat design for a top plate system that would support and hold the rafters in place and didn’t require the traditional bird’s mouth to be cut in the rafter.   After careful layout for my 10/12 pitch roof, it was not until I set my first rafters in place that an eight of an inch miscalculation in lumber dimensions resulted in my 10/12 pitch roof losing a whole pitch and becoming a 9’ish/12 pitch roof…which was what the original design had called for, so I chalked it up to destiny and drove on.  I installed a loft floor over the front half of the building which will provide some storage for things in the off season. The cupola framing took a fair bit of head scratching to get things just the way I wanted them, but came together nicely. I installed the 2″x4″ purlins to support the roofing, and before too long, the sugar shack was completely framed.

Check out the rest of the project in Part II of our story.

Resources used in this phase of construction:

Matthews & Fields Lumber - All framing supplies

University of Vermont - Sugar House Design Ideas

Google Sketchup - 3D Design Tool

Open Office Draw - 2D Design Tool

You see, I’m the type of person that likes distractions when things are uncertain…and right now, being on social lockdown, the only distraction I really have to take my mind off the ongoing news updates is counting my remaining toilet paper rolls, which is far closer to zero than it was when this whole mess started.  Much like my retirement savings has become over the past two weeks.

Times like these can make us feel quite helpless.   Aside from giving an elderly neighbor a call to see how they’re doing, or checking in with friends and family online, or being willing to spare a square when necessary, it’s hard to really do much that feels like you’re making a difference.  

Here at Relatively Random, we’ve been relatively lazy over the past six, twelve, oh OK, the past eighteen months.   The only thing good about this is that we have a bunch of half baked ideas floating around in our heads, on our laptops and in old tattered notebooks.   We’ve decided that the one thing we can do during this stressful season is to provide some necessary distraction. So, we’re kicking off “Social Distancing Days”,  where for the next couple weeks we’re going to finish off some of those half baked ideas and get them posted for folks to read. We can’t guarantee that everyone will be interested in everything we write, but we do hope that each article captures the attention of at least one person, so that for a short moment of time, maybe they can take their mind off the uncertainty of the days we’re living in.

So, keep an eye on our page for updates to new articles…share it with your friends…and let’s see if we can spread a little joy in a world so desperate to receive it.   …and if you read something that makes you happy, no need throw any money in the tip jar, just send toilet paper.