Whilst in NY I had made ready for that year’s total lunar eclipse, looking far forward and anticipating camping on the northwestern side of a lake. Over whose clearing I would have a wide viewing angle for the eclipse set to begin shortly after moonrise. This plan however could not go smoothly, as the lake it centered around, did not seem to exist. After exhausing efforts to find it, I gave up, setting camp in a rough parking lot which would provide a smaller yet adequate clearing. Having planned to camp near a lake I hadn’t carried in enough water for dinner and the next morning, luckily this lot had a large puddle, which even though fully opaque, would suffice for my immediate needs. The third and final misfortune of the night, wherein I was practicing sword drills and cracked the wood of the grip, the leather binding had deteriorated and finally came fully off, leaving it vulnerable to exactly this kind of failure. It did not crack into pieces, but I would need to be more careful with it going forwards. Even accounting for these I had a nice night, watching Princess Mononoke on my new (at the time) tablet before staying up for the complete cycle of the Blood Moon.

Coming into PA, the early snowfall was fortunate, as the bugs wouldn’t recover for the season and thus abought me 7 months to hike without being pestered by insects, an ongoing trend of good luck with the climate. I was worried that the frost would wilt all the plantlife and leave me to hike through miles of barren brown dead forest. While the colors had already peaked, much of the greenery bounced back as the thaw came quick and frost did not return until long into OH. With the change of the season I found myself sporting a blaze orange scarf on my pack, as the occasional company I would find turned from hikers to hunters. As designated camping areas became more sparse; waking up while stealth camping, to the blast of nearby gunfire of indeterminate origin became quite common. Most encounters with hunters started coldly, but I would get a warmer reception as I explained my story and their recognition of me changed from that of a vagrant, squatting in their haunts, to a fellow, and I would trade talk for advice on places to pitch my tent. To their disappointment it seemed that their hunting grounds were filled with far more hunters than game, I don’t think I saw a single one carry out a bird. After the opening weekend these meetings too seemed to taper off precipitously and I was once again, alone.

I had two rations sent to PA, although I comically misjudged the distance between them, as I shifted to the 4th (of 9…) kind of map I would use for the NCT, and once again readjusting. Carrying six days of food I found myself taking ten days between maildrops, and easily using grocery stores to bridge the gaps as I spent more time on roads. Stopping nightly in the woods, beside ghost towns, abandoned train tunnels, and the occasional derrick standing still over the original US oil patch. The fewer hunters I saw, the more I noticed the turkeys, and it came to where I would flush a half dozen groups of them each day, one such group must’ve had more than eighteen birds in its number.

My first week on the NCT was bookended by bridges, the first crossing from VT to Crown Point NY. I spent a little time talking to the people manning the historical site hoping to find some info regarding the terminus, and maybe a trail register. I had missed office hours for the NCTA, so without inquiring of them I departed for the Adirondacks without much fanfare. Into the Dix mountain wilderness via an ill-advised bushwhack up the east side of Macomb Mountain, through pine thicket for about 5 miles, ended up taking some 13 hours of hard trekking. (Put some of the most significant damge on shirt No.2 that it would see, aswell) Moving quickly into and thru the high peaks wilderness, with nought but a short side jaunt up Mt. Marcy to check cell reception (no dice, but got service at a random shelter a few hours later…) and for a state high point. Caught the beautiful Northville to Lake Placid Trail (NPT) outta the high peaks, with a little extra time for some swimming in the river. Shortly after hitting the road I got the payoff of a minor logistical miracle, in which four of my friends, including Nemo, had managed to road trip out to meet me. The purpose of the trip, Mighty Mac, the bridge between the two Michigans is only open for pedestrians one day of the year, Labor Day, and was at the time part of the “official” NCT thru route. (I have since heard that a couple weeks later they pulled it, C’est la vie.) Between the ADK and Mac we spent some time at Niagra falls in the middle of the night, and burned an afternoon with a little swordplay at the beach. 

Crossing the Mackinac Bridge was in itself a bit sof a shocking experience, having mostly been alone or within a small group of mostly known individuals, to suddenly find myself amongst a huge crowd at a well choreographed event was jarring to say the least. Of course security wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about my carrying a sword, or large bags so I crossed with neither my pack nor my sword. (The only notable distance walked without the sword.) The rest of the way back to Minneapolis was mostly sleepy for me, as being freshly overstimulated by the sudden reintroduction of friends to my life. Staying home was odd, but mostly productive, and I was able to pack in a few medical appointments while I was still covered by my parent’s insurance, attend a regular HEMA session, acquiring a tablet to help manage logistics. My father had a minor health complication just before I was set to return to trail, so I was a bit delayed in returning, resulting in about two weeks of downtime.

Returning to the NCT just before the exit of the ADK put me on a track following a loose connection of trails, roads, and rails. Stealth camping by night in the ditches and thickets beside the road, beneath bridges and within a couple abandoned mills located alongside some of the area’s more significant rivers. Catching the established NCT at the old Erie Canal near Rome, NY. During this bit of road problems with my air mattress came to a head and it delaminated to the point which it no longer held air. While this was covered by warranty, it still left me without a sleeping pad, so I took the canalway trail significantly farther than the NCT’s turnoff point, into Syracuse where I could find an outfitter to hopefully help with the warranty process, and at least get me a pad to use in the interim. In a way ot sort of worked out, on the drive back out to the ADK I had dropped a Ration box with the Syracuse Eastern Mtn Sports, not realizing how far off route it would be.