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Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Thoughts on Starting the AT in Winter

I've set my start date for the Appalachian Trail for the first or second week in February. Exact date TBD.

Advantages:
1) I'll get a good head start on the crowds. And,  being ahead of them, won't have to deal with the trashed conditions that they reputedly leave in their wake.
2) I'll have extra time to take an easier pace for the sake of my injuries, and still get to Maine in time (Mt.  Katahdin, the northern end of the trail, closes on October 15th).
3) I'll avoid some of the worst heat by doing the southern portions before summer.

Disadvantages:
1) It will be cold.
2) I'll have to carry a heavier pack during the earlier stages. Because it will be cold.
3) It will put me in the highest elevations, in the Smokies, in early spring, where apparently, according to all the trail wisdom I've been able to find, it will be cold.

However, since one of my principal goals is to complete the final stages of my weight loss,  the cold will actually work to my advantage. Colder temperatures mean more calories burned, as does extra weight carried.

Also, I like a challenge. In case you didn't already figure that out about me. I'm actually looking forward to climbing some of those frozen, windswept mountains above the treeline. I see it as a complement to my trek through the Florida swamps. Next I need to plan a hike through the desert, so I will have conquered all the types of challenging terrain the country has to offer. Hm...maybe a PCT through-hike next? And then maybe a snowshoeing journey through someplace wide and flat and really cold.

No need to worry about me though: I've bought plenty of winter gear. A 5 degree sleeping bag, silk underwear, two layers of wool, an outer layer of down, and a waterproof, windproof gore tex shell layer. Even got myself a pair of crampons (strongly recommended by previous winter AT hikers) so I don't slide off a mountain, and ski goggles so I don't get blinded by bad weather and get lost. I'll end up carrying most of it most of the time, but those few times I do use it, it will be essential. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. Especially when you're talking about gear for staying alive in the cold.

Most of the time, while I'm walking, I'll only be wearing the light merino wool layer under my regular clothes, plus the gore tex if it's wet or windy; overheating is a greater concern while I'm moving than hypothermia. The rest of it is for after I stop. Climbing hills and carrying a pack, you sweat even when it's cold, and that plus fatigue equals getting chilled very quickly. So you have to carry a dry set of warm things to change into, plus you need much more insulation when you're sedentary in camp (and the temperature drops at night), including a dry change of hat, gloves, and footwear. So for camp, I have the silk liner layer, expedition-weight wool, and a down jacket and primaloft pants, over which I can wear the gore tex again if I need to, along with down booties and super-thick mountaineering socks. I also bought the extra cold weather shell for my hammock, and a merino wool sleeping bag liner. And if it gets ridiculously cold, I'm carrying two space blankets; there's this thing you can do where you put them over and under the hammock to reflect your heat back in.

Yeah, it sounds like I'm preparing for an expedition to the arctic. But not really: the stuff I've got is much lighter than what you'd wear someplace really cold, like Antarctica or Mt. Everest, or even far north like Canada. Here's the thing, though: winter is still winter, even in the South, and it gets cold enough to be seriously dangerous up in the mountains, even the relatively low Appalachians. We're talking about single-digit temperatures fairly regularly at night, and possibly sub-zero on occasion. And being stuck out in that kind of cold without adequate warm gear, in addition to being dangerous and potentially deadly, is just plain miserable. I speak from experience. Most of us have never been more than a few minutes' walk from somewhere heated and sheltered when it's cold: even if we're out away from buildings, we have our cars to retreat to, and to get us back to safety. But when you're outside all day and all night, every day, hours from shelter or even the nearest road, you have to plan for the worst and be prepared for any kind of weather you can realistically expect for wherever you are. So I'm going prepared for anything down to temperatures of ten or twenty below when I'm camped, and heavy snow and strong winds while I'm moving. If it gets worse than that, I'll have to get off the trail: bringing along arctic parka and snowshoes just isn't practical (although people who hike the northern sections of the AT in winter do routinely take those things).

In other news, the VA has very kindly scheduled me for a consult with a plastic surgeon, to repair the damage left by my weight loss. I am surprised but gratified; they are, after all, always on us about losing weight. So once I get back from my hike, having lost ALL the remaining fat, I'll be able to finally and totally put that part of my life to rest. The surgery will not only fix my skin, but will involve liposuctioning the adipose cells, which never otherwise go away (they only shrink; which is why it is so hard for formerly fat people to keep it off: the fat cells are just waiting there to start storing calories again.)

I have no intention nor desire to ever go back to eating the way I did which got me fat. But it will be an enormous relief to be able to just eat healthy and exercise, and not have to endlessly worry about every single calorie for the rest of my life because my body is constantly fighting against me and trying to get fat again. I would like to actually live, and not have that be the main focus of my existence.

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