Why Do You Hike?

As a ridgerunner this year. I am meeting a variety of hikers out on the trail. Some are hiking just for a few days. Others are out for months at a time, attempting to complete a "thru hike" of the Appalachian Trail, that is, hiking the entire length of trail in a given year. And with the people I meet, I also discover their many reasons for coming to a lone trail, enduring pain, fatigue, hunger, heat, rain, snow, ice, wind to walk. They range in ages from kids on up to senior citizens. They are from the neighboring towns or as far away as Germany and New Zealand. But they are all seeking something unique from their wilderness experience that they can take back to the front country when they return.

Some, like myself, returned to the woods in times of grief to find solace and comfort in the trees, flowering plants, and the goal of seeing the view off a mountain summit. Or even to cry in a tent in the middle of nowhere.

One hiker told me how "bad' he had been in his youth and now he wants to turn a new corner and be "good' by doing a long hike.

One young hiker survived cancer everywhere in his body at the tender age of 24 and now he hikes to raise money so young survivors of cancer can enjoy recreational opportunities.

The wounded warriors are walking off the pain and the memory of fierce battle and the war wounds they carry by hiking the Appalachian Trail.

Many hikers have quit their jobs and want to discover what the future has in store by doing something totally out of the norm of the busy society to do a thru hike. They are adventurers at heart.

One went to do work in a third world country and now wanted to experience third world living, so to speak, by hiking and living in the woods with little.

Several married couples are hiking long distances together to see how a marriage works trailside, with one couple married only a few months.

A film crew is out in the woods to make memories and money with their time, and they carry no money with them but wait to see how they will be provided for when they arrive at each stopping point.  



This is but a small sample. Others seek many different things in their ventures. So what do you seek when you go out into the woods?

Running Jersey Ridges - Guest Blog on the Life of an AT Ridgerunner Part 2

Second half of the blog post from Jerry "Grasshopper" Adams on the day in the life of  New Jersey ridgerunner.

Sunfish Pond

My shift at the Backpacker campsite was ending but I was staying in the woods, working my way north to hike the 73 miles of AT in Jersey from the Delaware River in Pennsylvania to the New York border.

I move north, hoping to see a bear.  The other Jersey ridgerunners have seen 40 bears between them and I am miffed at not having seen a single one this summer – or on my hike through here last year. My dismay was fueled by the glee of other hikers who delighted in sharing their daily sightings – “I saw a Mama Bear and three cubs this morning. Awesome.”

The Trail crosses the state line at the Delaware River and gently climbs 1200 feet and then follows the Kittatinnies, a panorama of lakes and farmlands unfolding across Pennsylvania to the west and Jersey to the east. Crossing Raccoon Ridge and Rattlesnake Mountain, the trail is rocky, but it gradually smooths and then flattens as it moves north.

The old man with a face filled with bushy white whiskers was standing in the middle of the trail watching me approach from the south. “Howdy, Pilgrim,” I shout! “With that beard, I am guessing you are a thru-hiker.”

“I’m Birdman. Who are you,” came the reply in a drawl so slow I thought I was back home in South Carolina instead of headed north across New Jersey.

“I’m Grasshopper. I am a ridgerunner.”

“What’s that?”

Birdman is from Tennessee, retired from a lifetime of quarry work and is thru-hiking to Maine. At 65, he’s four years older than me. We stop for lunch at Mohican Outdoor Center and I explain myself, making a new friend and gaining a hiking partner for the week.  We walk on together and then I keep going when he takes a mid-afternoon break; I figure we’ll see each other up the trail.

Birdman rolls in late, joining me at a primitive campsite just north of a pond near Millbrook-Blairstown Road, and the next day we cover 12 miles and stay the night at Brink Road Shelter with three camp groups, six northbound thru-hikers and four hikers headed to Georgia.

I make my rounds, checking in with the counselors and scanning the wide-eyed stares of youngsters who are unplugged and facing woodlands isolation and solitude, perhaps for the first time.

Ever the trail ambassador, I prepare hikers for the perils ahead, including Joe to Go in Branchville, where the trail crosses Highway 206 at Culver Gap.  This is both a prime spot for breakfast and a source of great angst to outdoor types who slip from the solitude of the woods unprepared for the urban crankiness of a man who earned his reputation for being unfriendly to hikers.

“He’s a nice guy, but he does things his way.  Just order your food and keep in simple,” I advise. “It’s cash only and don’t even think about asking to charge your phone or to use the bathroom.”

A camper who passed by Gren Anderson Shelter is telling others to leave their trash in the bear box, a weird twist on Leave No Trace, and I only grouse a little before packing out someone’s leftovers. A northbound thru-hiker is carrying a six-pack of beer and he finishes two at the shelter, smashing his empties and then packing them away. I caution him about alcohol on the trail; he smiles, shrugs, and hikes on, opening a can as he goes.

A woman in sandals struggles up Sunrise Mountain with a large pack.  With a thick Eastern European accent, Mary says she is on the second day of a hike across New Jersey. She complains that her feet hurt after 24 miles the day before. “Why so far?” I ask. “I only have four days,” she replies.

Good luck with that.

Mary pulled up lame the next day at High Point State Park and needed a ride to the train in Port Jervis. My truck was nearby and I considered taking her to the train, but thought that idea promised trouble so I helped her call a cab and then headed north with a clear conscience.

Monument at High Point State Park

At 1700-feet, High Point is the highest spot in New Jersey and the trail then drops to the valley and cuts southeast along the New York border, across farms and through fields and forests, board walks, pasturelands and along country roads.  I cover seven miles in a steady rain, take a late morning break to dry off at the Jim Murray shelter and then stop for lunch in Unionville at Horler’s Store.

The trail passes near ridgerunner summer housing at the wildlife refuge, so I stop for a hot shower and a night’s respite from the rain. Up and over Pochuck Mountain the next morning, I take a mandatory ice cream break at the Heaven Hill Farms store and then climb the Stairway to Heaven and cross Wawayanda and stay the night near the shelter as my hike across Jersey winds down.

The New York line is four miles north and I plan to flip at the border and hike back to Wawayanda for a shuttle ride back to my truck, but then I meet Fred Schneider, a volunteer trail maintainer, and decide to hike down the State Line Trail with him. Lost in my reverie and feeling sassy about finishing my walk across Jersey, I stumble and land hard, snapping a trekking pole, bruising my bottom, blackening an eye, and spraining my hand.

The pain and indignity fade as we make it down the mountain and reach Fred’s car at the Greenwood Lake trailhead. He ferries me toward Warwick for something cold at The Creamery, an oasis where the AT crosses US 17A.  The chocolate shake is a taste of heaven.

Limping but refreshed, I catch a ride to a hiker hostel in Vernon where a park worker from Wawayanda shuttles me back to High Point and my truck.  I meet Birdman and three other northbounders for breakfast the next morning, picking up the tab as Trail Magic and then shuttle the four of them back to the trail and the hike up Wawayanda Mountain that will start their day.

August melted into September, and Labor Day ended my ridgerunner summer. I camped near the High Point Shelter my last night out and then hiked 12 miles back to the house at the wildlife refuge to pack up for the long drive south.  I was barely a half mile down the trail when I saw a bear cub scamper ahead and disappear into the trees.  My ridgerunning ended with my summer’s only bear.

Birdman and I are planning to hike together to Trail Days in Damascus, VA in the spring and then he’s going to New Hampshire to finish his hike to Katahdin.   Me? I’m hoping for a return to Jersey and for more ridges to run.

Part One

Running Jersey Ridges - Guest Blog on the Life of an AT Ridgerunner Part 1

Blissful Hiking Welcomes Guest Blogger Jerry "Grasshopper" Adams who shares the life of a ridgerunner working New Jersey and New York. If you are ever in the neighborhood, say hello to a ridgerunner (they love to chat!). Blissful of Blissful Hiking is working this summer in Shenandoah National Park.

Running Jersey Ridges, Part 1

Birdman and Grasshopper

By Jerry Adams 

The summer thunderstorm blew through Delaware Water Gap, up and across the Kittatinny Ridge, its winds whipping the Backpacker Campsite on a steamy August afternoon. 

Its thunder boomed and its lightning crackled as heavy wind and rain slapped the tarp against the tent. Braced inside, I pushed back hard to support straining poles, happy to be dry but knowing that storms earlier in the summer had snapped a pole, collapsed the tent and sent the 16x20 tarp sailing.

The wind died as the storm moved north.  A steady rain continued as I slipped outside to check for damage and see how others camped on the mountain had fared. Thankful for having gotten to shelter just ahead of the nasty weather, I knew others had not been as fortunate and I used my emergency radio to call park police about some very soggy hikers headed their way.

I knew at least a dozen people were scattered along the four miles of Appalachian Trail back to the visitor center at the Delaware River; I was especially worried about one heavyset couple I had passed an hour earlier, just before the storm.

They were moving slow, wearing the wrong shoes, and starting to mumble and whine about the long walk back to their car. The four miles up to Sunfish Pond was harder than they had expected and the pond was very nice; what, now they had to hike four miles back?

Stopping to chat, because that’s what ridgerunners do, I did my best to cheer them on with the news that it was only three easy miles to the bottom. Yes, I agreed, walking downhill often hurts more than walking uphill; and yes, hiking is harder than walking.

They trudged slowly on; I moved quickly and eagerly up the trail, heading north, excited to be starting a 75-mile hike across New Jersey.

Again.

Hiking with the trail name “Grasshopper,” I had thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2011 and had fond memories of the five hot days I had spent crossing Jersey. Blessed with the opportunity to return in 2012 as a ridgerunner known as AT-3, I spent five days each week in the woods, hiking different chunks of trail, and covering about 40 miles.  I was living the dream -- paid to hike and spending the season with hikers, trail volunteers, work crews, and Trail Angels and hoped to give back and help them as much as they had helped me on my own long walk north.

All told over the past 18 months, I had hiked more than 2500 miles and had lived in the woods for nearly a year.  

Hired by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, the New Jersey Parks Service, and the New York / New Jersey Trail Conference, I was one of three ridgerunners in Jersey for the season.  We are “boots on the ground” to help folks safely enjoy the AT, its forests and footpaths, to share the gospel of Leave No Trace and to keep tabs on the trail and those using it.

We share directions and advice, remind people to store food in bear boxes, and to pack out their own trash. We explain that the sign saying “No Ground Fires” really does mean that campfires are not allowed (yes, this means you) and that “no alcohol” means “no alcohol.”  And yes, the leash law applies to your dog, too.

Off-trail, we shared housing with summer interns and firefighters at the Lake Wallkill Wildlife Refuge. In the field, we were wonderfully supported and shuttled by the good folks who work in and manage the state’s four public forests, especially Rebecca Fitzgerald at High Point and Ernie Kabert at Worthington.

I had been camping at Backpacker for five days, hiking nearby trails and keeping tabs on Sunfish Pond, a gorgeous glacial lake that attracts hundreds of hikers and tempts many to ignore the ban against camping and swimming.

I had gathered trash from near the pond and in the bear boxes and I was making my rounds, when I encountered an Outward Bound group headed north.  We had met the night before and they happily gathered again to hear me “talk trash.” Holding my bag aloft, I said, “I know this isn’t your trash, but this is what others have left. This is why we …   Leave No Trace!”

“Leave No Trace!” they shouted. “Thank you, Grasshopper,” they say in chorus as my lesson ended, and they moved on.

Part Two

 

Blissful Hiking's Ten Essentials for Hiking

I came across this post on REI of their updated Ten Essentials for Hiking.

Updated Ten Essential "Systems"

1. Navigation (map and compass)
2. Sun protection (sunglasses and sunscreen)
3. Insulation (extra clothing)
4. Illumination (headlamp/flashlight)
5. First-aid supplies
6. Fire (waterproof matches/lighter/candles)
7. Repair kit and tools
8. Nutrition (extra food)
9. Hydration (extra water)
10. Emergency shelter

Here is my take on the Ten Essentials for a Hike

1. Navigation. Maps, maps, maps. Consider a guidebook for the area too if unfamiliar with it. A compass is good to have but at least a map is essential.

2. Replace sun protection with insect protection (unless you are desert hiking or hiking in trails out west without trees like Utah). Ticks are a primary concern with the spread of Lyme Disease. Mosquitoes and deerflies can make life miserable.

3. Extra clothing, yes, including a good hat. I would add in rain gear. That can help shield you from wind as well as protect you if the weather turns nasty. And throw in a pack cover for your pack to keep the contents dry. And a small poncho could be used as a shelter in a pinch.

4. A trusty headlamp is a good idea to have if you run late on the trail

5. A first aid kit is a must. See my first aid kit contents. 

6. Yes, you can throw in matches for a fire, but what if it's wet out? Extra dry clothing and extra food is good to have.

7. Repair kit and tools? Not sure why a repair kit is essential. I add in my first aid kit duct tape and safety pins. That will likely get you temporarily fixed until back n civilization. Perhaps a small pocket knife, but it isn't likely to help you that much.

8. Extra food is a good idea. A good trail mix has a mixture of fats, carbs and protein from the nuts, seeds, fruits, and chocolate bits.

9. Hydration. Instead of toting large amounts of water, bring water purification and a map and guidebook to let you know where the reliable sources are located. But if there won't be any (like desert hiking) then carry the water you need for the climate. 

10. I would replace "Shelter" with a Safety - bring a charged cell phone, tell someone at home about your hiking plans and when you are expected home, bring some extra cash for a ride. If there are places to sign in at trail registers, do it. Bring a pen for this and some paper too in case you need to leave a note somewhere. Add a small whistle.

Plan Ahead and Prepare

The spring and summer hiking season is gearing up, and with that, I will be doing a series of blogs highlighting some important Leave No Trace Principles. After my hike out in Georgia earlier this season on the Appalachian Trail, I was surprised to see many thru hikers who did not adhere to the important principle of planning and preparing. Because of it, they lacked what was needed to help ensure a timely and safe hike. For some, it even jeopardized their dream or it damaged trail resources.

 

With that in mind, I have taken principles from the Leave No Trace web site to help illustrate some good ideas when deciding on a hiking trip. Plus I add a few of my own.  

"Adequate trip planning and preparation helps backcountry travelers accomplish trip goals safely and enjoyably, while simultaneously minimizing damage to the land.

PRE-TRIP PLANNING
Poor planning often results in miserable campers and damage to natural and cultural resources. Rangers often tell stories of campers they have encountered who, because of poor planning and unexpected conditions, degrade backcountry resources and put themselves at risk.

WHY IS TRIP PLANNING IMPORTANT?
You may want to create additional answers for this list:

• It helps ensure the safety of groups and individuals.
• It prepares you to Leave No Trace and minimizes resource damage.
• It contributes to accomplishing trip goals safely and enjoyably.
• It increases self-confidence and opportunities for learning more about nature.

SEVEN ELEMENTS TO CONSIDER WHEN PLANNING A TRIP

• Identify the goals (expectations) of your trip.
• Identify the skill and ability of trip participants.
• Select destinations that match your goals, skills, and abilities.
• Gain knowledge of the area you plan to visit from land managers, maps, literature and online resources.
• Choose equipment and clothing for comfort, safety, and Leave No Trace qualities.
• Plan trip activities to match your goals, skills, and abilities.
• Evaluate your trip upon return note changes you will make next time.

CONSIDER Also:

• Weather
• Terrain
• Regulations/restrictions (permits, camping areas, fires)
• Private land boundaries
• Average hiking speed of group and anticipated food consumption
• Group size (does it meet regulations, trip purpose and Leave No Trace criteria?)

Meals are another element to trip planning that can have a profound effect on the impact a group has on a backcountry area.

Benefits of Good Meal Planning:

• Reduced trash.
• Reduced pack weight, resulting in faster hiking times and less fatigue.
• Reduced dependence upon campfires for cooking.
• One-Pot Meals and Food Repackaging

Planning for one-pot meals and light weight snacks requires a minimum of packing and preparation time, lightens loads and decreases garbage. One-pot meals require minimal cooking utensils and eliminate the need for a campfire. Two backpack stoves can be used to cook all meals for large groups if you have two large pots (one large pot can be balanced on two stoves when quick heating is desired). Don't rely on campfire cooking (and please, do not make aluminum foil HOBO meals. I have seen too much foil left in campfire rings). Most food should be removed from its commercial packing and placed in sealable bags before packing your backpacks. Sealable bags (like ziploc bags) secure food and reduce bulk and garbage. Empty bags can be placed inside each other and packed out. This method can reduce the amount of garbage you must pack out at the end of the trip and eliminate the undesirable need of burying unwanted trash or burning it in a campfire (NEVER burn your trash!)"

Other things to consider. It's important to know before you go. Know where you are going. Know your physical limits, especially as you are carrying a backpack over uneven terrain. Bring maps, compass, guidebooks of the area you plan to hike. Some areas it's good to have a GPS device (I used one on the Long Trail). Familiarize yourself with the area. Bring a cell phone for emergencies. Know first aid and what to do in an emergency, for unplanned weather, or if you are injured. Bring adequate clothing and equipment like a good tent (don't rely on trail shelters) and water purification. Always pack an extra day of food in case you must stay for an extra  day because of bad weather. Don't rely on fires to keep you warm but have a good sleeping bag and warm weather clothing like merino wool underwear, an insulated jacket, a hat, and rain gear. Be sure to keep your sleeping bag and clothing dry at all costs.

Don't let poor planning and preparation ruin your hike and the trails we love.  

Observations of a Two Week Appalachian Trail Start

I decided to do it big this year, that is, begin at the beginning and in the throes of a very busy thru hiking season to section hike part of Appalachian Trail in Georgia and North Carolina. My intended "section" would include the Approach Trail to the Appalachian Trail atop Springer Mtn and on to Hot Springs. But as things go in life, the hike would take on its own identity (I ended at Stecoah Gap due to commitments at home and a tender Achilles tendon). Yet I would garner interesting observations learned from trekking the trail with countless others who looked to Maine as their final destination.

Observation One:  The Beginning

I was amazed at the amount of thru hikers who got dropped off at the parking lot a mile south of Springer Mtn to begin their thru hiking quest. I'm not saying this is a precursor to a failed hiking attempt, but I don't understand why hikers chose to do this and skip the main adventure - getting to that first white blaze.

First they miss the idea of a "pre" start. For those who go southbound, one must negotiate a pretty intense 5 mile trip up the massive Katahdin to begin a thru hike. Here, it's a modest 8.8 miles over tame terrain. Yes, the "steps" up the first mile are kind of steep. But isn't the falls worth it? Hey, I even liked the arch! And the nice woods hike for 8 miles. It's all good.

The "start" or the arch at Amicalola Falls

The reward for a few stairs - a gorgeous waterfall.

  
Observation Two: Preparation

I was now amazed at the "lack" of preparation by thru hikers for their long distance hikes. When I stopped at Black Gap shelter and met a hiker with a 40 degree bag for his trip, I knew there was trouble lurking in this year's class. Hikers did not expect cold and snow. They found themselves bailing out or even quitting, it made me wish they had taken to heart the first rule of Leave No Trace. Plan and Prepare. Some say you don't need to plan for a hike like this. I say it puts your dream in jeopardy if you do not. One must always be ready for any and every weather condition out there. Take an adequate sleeping bag. Take layers (and NOT cotton!). Don't be carrying 50 pounds on your back of wasted stuff you'll never use. Don't bring a 5lb tent (boy I saw a lot of bad tents out there and hikers complaining their tents leaked) Bring a map and some kind of guidebook. Prepare.    

Unexpected snow, cold and wind greeted hikers late in March this year. Plan for all kinds of weather!

Observation Three: Injury

Lots of ascents and descents on the AT means possible injuries. Work through it and know before you go.

Yes, injuries abounded on the trail. I heard more about foot and knee issues. Some can't be helped. Some can, by adequate footwear and insoles and physical preparation. Many hikers lacked the proper footwear. I saw hikers carrying their heavy boots and hiking instead in camp shoes because of blisters (!) Some were wearing worn out shoes. Some did not know how to use their poles right to make descent and ascents. Some older hikers are not carrying items that could help ailing knees (like a regimen of glusomine or a good cho pat duo knee brace just in case and limiting pack weight and know some good stretches). It helps to have a knowledge of first aid under your belt. To do hiking beforehand and learn how to cope with the maladies of blisters and sore feet that hit before you undertake a long distance hike. To know how to doctor yourself to keep the hiking show going.  

Observation Four: Showing Respect

How I wish hikers showed respect for people, towns and the trail. It is severely lacking on the trail. One thinks if they are doing a thru hike, they are "special" and they can therefore do and say whatever they please. Including trashing motel rooms with dirt blood and dog pee, not giving tips to drivers and motel staff, using foul language everywhere (I heard the f** word ALL the time at camp. For every possible thing or just as a part of normal conversation. Oh wow, my f**ing thing broke. Oh did you f** see that. I'm gonna put my f**ing tent up, I guess. Oh yeah, f** this. ). Out of the depths of a heart the mouth speaks. A mouth speaking such vulgarity means the body is likewise doing vulgar things to and showing disrespect. Hikers, clean up your act, which means your foul mouth as well as your hands! Show respect. Respect elders. Respect trail providers. Respect towns. Respect the trail (like NO trash or toilet paper flowers!!) Pack it in, pack it out. Make the trail a great place for all.  

Lots of tents in Locust Cove Gap on my last night. And lots of swearing too.

The Joy of an Inner Circle

It's time for Blissful Hiking to take to the trail and hike, and what better place than to traverse the trail that I undertook some six years ago with my then teen son (which we completed in September, 2007). As I begin my three week adventure on the Appalachian Trail from the Approach Trail north, I thought I'd share this excerpt from my upcoming book - Mountains, Madness and Miracles (preorder available right now from Amazon) and our first day on the hike.Oh, the value of a hiking inner circle!

I'll see you back here in a few weeks with doubtless more adventures and insights to share!


 Excerpt- Mountains, Madness and Miracles - 4,000 Miles Along the Appalachian Trail

I shoulder my pack that seems to be gaining weight the longer I stand there. I take up my hiking poles, whisper a prayer, and begin the Approach Trail. We walk but a half mile when Paul Bunyan falls behind. Calling to him around a bend in the trail, he ignores our plea to catch up and hike as a family. He claims he will take this at his own pace, if at all. I try not to let doubt creep in, even as I struggle with sudden pains erupting out of nowhere in my foot and knee. It appears everything is in rebellion. 

Dread washes over me. What am I thinking, in all honesty? How can I possibly do some trail from Georgia to Maine? All the plans, the preparations, the dreams, are about to come crashing down in defeat on day one—before I even arrive at the official start of the Appalachian Trail on Springer Mountain.  

            We complete the mile up the Approach Trail to the top of Amicalola Falls. There I take off my pack and struggle with the feeling that I’m making the worst mistake of my life. I can hear it now when we arrive home in defeat. The sympathetic looks mixed with “I thought it would be too much.” Or other sentiments meant to comfort but act as barbs instead. 

I turn to see Paul Bunyan stumbling up the trail. He throws down his pack in an act of surrender. I can tell from his face what he’s thinking, and it’s not looking good. . .

The son

You got that right. And this is what I’m thinking. I’m not going any farther on this stupid thing. Man, I can’t believe how steep it is. I’m not cut out for this. This is a joke. Maybe if I lag behind, we’ll stop and rethink this plan. 

At this point I’m still wondering what’s going on and what we’re doing. It all seems weird to me. Maybe we’ll get to the top of the mountain and say, Okay, let’s go back down and maybe head out again tomorrow and see what happens. This will only be a one or two night thing. It can’t go on for weeks. No way.   

Me

            Sigh. It looks like we may be turning around here at the rest room, atop the waterfalls that gives the park its name. One mile on the Approach Trail and we are throwing in the towel, before we even see the first white blaze. The unthinkable is about to happen. We are going to head home in utter defeat. Oh God, how can this be?

            Suddenly a man clutching a cigarette appears from around the rest room, his head wrapped in a bandanna. He introduces himself as Flint. Immediately I recognize the name from a hiking website on the Internet. His wife contacted me a few days before via the site where I’m keeping my online trail journal. She mentioned her husband’s plan to start March 5 and that his name is Flint. I already have a connection to the trail! 

Our hiking inner circle that first day on the Approach Trail

The next moment we’re joined by Dr. B, the man we met at the arch where we exchanged pictures. We all begin talking about the hike. . .and then we begin hiking together. I don’t think any more about giving up or that Paul Bunyan lags behind. We’re officially part of a hiking circle that will become the mainstay of long-distance hiking—a league of fellow hikers who hold to some wild, farfetched dream of hiking the entire Appalachian Trail.    

            Not long into the hike I realize the value of that inner circle. When we come to a trail intersection, Dr. B and Flint wait patiently for Paul Bunyan to catch up. They refuse to leave him behind. They acknowledge him as a vital member of the group. They take their time, enjoying a slow, relaxed pace on a fine spring day. And with that patience, Paul Bunyan seems to have more energy. 

The doubts are taking flight. We are not going home after all. We are on our way north by way of a trail.