Trip Report: Three Sections of the Pinhoti Trail

Thomas and I completed the first three sections of the Pinhoti Trail  yesterday morning.  We arrived at the trailhead on Flagg Mountain at about 7PM Sunday evening and hiked two miles to the Weogufka Creek shelter -- very, very nice.  We did have to climb the hill behind the shelter several hundred yards to get enough cell reception to check in with significant others, but that wasn't too bad.  The creek at the bottom of the hill was running very well.

Monday we woke up early to tackle the whole road walk.  It was very cold -- below freezing -- and there was frost on my sleeping bag where I had been breathing on it all night.  I was very comfy with my new Jarbidge River underquilt, and hated to get out.  After a chilly pack-up, we left the campsite about 8AM and started toward the Trammell trailhead, 17.6 miles away, most of which was on paved, public roads.  The trail seemed to dip up and down more than might have been necessary.  "PUDs", or Pointless Ups and Downs, is a serious charge to throw against someone's hard work, but here it seemed to apply.  Eventually the trail hit a dirt road and we followed it down the mountain, across a huge clearing, and into the woods again.  I really enjoyed this part, especially where the road went through the woods at the bottom of the mountain.  Soon, though, the trail left the road again and cut across to County Road 56.  We were on roads the rest of the day.

Our favorite part by far was "downtown" Weogufka.  Caperton's Old South Store was closed, and Thomas was disappointed.  We were greeted by a nice lady as we passed Weogufka Second Baptist, and by various dogs along the way.  The traffic was not too bad, except for one or two people whom I hope were racing to the hospital, because they passed us very close and very, very fast.

We made it to the Dollar General by 1PM, and I was starting to form a blister on the ball of my foot.  We stopped for water and shoe inserts.  Everyone was nice, even though we must have looked pretty scary, with our hair all wild and our stuff scattered across the sidewalk.  We took about a 30 minute break while I cut my new inserts to size and got them arranged.  After dumping our trash we started on the second section.

Crossing 280 wasn't too bad, though it could have been better.  We passed Bethlehem UMC and talked about stopping to see if we could pull the Methodist card and charge our phones, but we were making good time and didn't want to stop.  Someone in a pickup truck stopped to ask us if we were hiking the trail, and we talked to him for a minute.  A little ways on we stopped to eat some jerky in front of a large field with a pond and several old structures.  Thomas loved the old Chevy pickup parked over against the trees.  We noticed our friend from earlier out knocking a golf ball around in his yard.  He spoke again as we passed him.

By the time we got to Joy Lake, we were exhausted and had had enough, but we still had three more miles.  Those were the three longest miles I've ever walked.  We finally reached the National Forest and could breathe easier; now we had a place to camp if we needed.  But our water stash was still ahead, and we wanted to get as close to it as possible.  By the seventeenth mile, however, we'd more than had enough, and we ended up camping within TNF but about half a mile from the Trammell trailhead.  We picked the spot specifically because we had decent cell service.  We didn't even eat dinner, but talked to our people and went to sleep.  This was my second night out, officially making this the longest trip I've ever undertaken.

Tuesday took us up and over the various peaks of Rebecca Mountain.  We were curious why the trail zig-zags across relatively flat ground through the first mile or so.  I was sorely tempted get a compass bearing and cut straight across.  Then, up and down and up and down and up and down again, pointlessly.  We did climb over four peaks, but there were sections built along the side of the mountain that just seemed to yo-yo for no discernable purpose.  Another annoyance, though no one can possibly help it, was the way leaves get caught and pile up in the trailbed.  Walking through heavy leaves is tiring (think walking through sand) and since the trail is rocky, I nearly turned my ankle several times when I stepped on a loose rock I couldn't see.  This slowed us down a lot.  There were some beautiful views, though.  Our favorite part of that section is around the 2 mile mark, where we're following the FS road and there's a small stream in the hollow below.  Very picturesque.  We ended up "white blazing" (I guess? Since the trail blazes are blue?) along Ridge Road for a mile or so instead of slogging through the long pile of leaves that is the trail.  After nine miles of up and down and up and down, I'd had enough so we camped just off of Ridge Road, uphill from White Gap.  We could see the forest fires down in the valley to the north, and the next morning we could hear the fly down cackles of the turkeys in the valley to the south.

I had a Backpackers Pantry meal, Chicken Vindaloo, that we'd never tried, so we ate that for supper.  It was really spicy and really good.  I used Thomas' last quart of water to make sweet tea for the next day.  We talked to loved ones again, and went to sleep.  The wind was blowing strongly from the south, so I didn't put up my tarp -- figuring we wouldn't have any dew that night.

I was wrong.  Sadly, horribly wrong.

The dew was heavier than I've seen in a while.  And it wet our sleeping bags -- including my down bag -- enough that I had to end the hike.

We were already running short on water, and with a cold front and rain on the way we decided to call for a pick up at Bull Gap.  I was worried enough already because we'd gone about half as fast as I'd planned on Tuesday, and that put us in danger of having to dry camp a third night in a row.  With section 4 being very demanding for us, I knew that 1mph pace was about to drop.  The wet insulation we could have overcome, but the weather forecast was for a cold front and rain.  It was a hard decision, but we chose to end the hike.  We still had to hike 3 miles to the trailhead and our water, though, so we got going.

We hiked the three miles over the four peaks in about three hours.  Each of the four peaks would have made great places to camp, especially since we hammock, though aside from the small stream the day before this whole section was dry as a bone.  Each of the four peaks had great views both north and south.  It really is a beautiful place to hike and camp.

The last mile or so of trail was especially beautiful and easy to walk as it wound down the mountain to Bull Gap.  We got to the bottom, grabbed our stash of water, and waited for our ride.

Today we've made a list of things to leave home next time.  We'll do section 4, which is 18 miles (the first 14 of which are dry) sometime later in the spring or perhaps late summer.  I've also made notes to my trail guide for next time.  Pack weight was a problem.  I carried too much food, and I let a couple things slip into the pack that should have stayed home.

The bits we hated were the pointless climbs and the leaves on the trail.  The leaves can't be fixed, and I suppose the PUDs can't be, either.  If ever we re-hike Section 3 we'll use Ridge Road instead of the trailbed for its entire distance.


The bits we loved were the scenic views, "downtown" Weogufka, and watching the shooting stars, satellites, and crossing airplanes at night.

Today it's cold and rainy, and I'm kind of glad we didn't have to deal with that.  It's one thing when everything's dry and you can work to keep it that way.  But when you head into cold, rainy weather with wet gear it gets dicey.

In all we did 31.1 miles over 8 peaks in 24 hours of hiking -- a little over 1.25 miles per hour -- though the road walk was definitely faster.  Not bad.

We are ready for the next one.  Soon!

Pre-trip Report: Five Days on the Pinhoti Trail

Pre-trip Report: Five Days on the Pinhoti Trail
Talladega National Forest
January 29-February 3, 2017

Thomas and I are about to go on a long section hike of the Pinhoti Trail.

We're starting Sunday evening on Flagg Mountain, the southernmost peak in the Appalachians that rises over 1,000 feet.  Flagg is the southern terminus of the Pinhoti Trail, just southeast of downtown Weogufka, Alabama.  In fact, the Weogufka Post Office is at trail mile 6.

Our plan is to sleep at the shelter there on Flagg to get an early start on the 17-mile roadwalk between Flagg and Rebecca Mountains on Monday morning.  By Friday we hope to be at least as far as Adams Gap (where I'm parking the truck), which is mile 64.6.  Yes, that's an awful long way.  Yes, there are going to be a lot of hills to climb, and unfortunately not quite enough streams to cross.  I'm stashing water at all the trailheads in between.

In the interim between our last hike and now, I've saved up and bought a filter cartridge for my water filter (finally, gah!) and an underquilt from Arrowhead Equipment -- the Jarbidge River.  I love it.  It's light, it's synthetic (less chance of it getting messed up in the rain) and it's WARM.  Thomas is going to be so jealous.  Best of all, it's affordable: $100 plus shipping.

I've also acquired a new base layer set on clearance at Walmart, one that's much lighter and hopefully almost as warm.  I won't know until Monday morning, when the forecast is upper 20s or lower 30s.

The original plan was to hike the whole thing in one go, from Rebecca Mountain to Flagpole Mountain, in 12 days or so.  That proved to be too long a time to be gone from fatherly and pastoral responsibilities, so we compromised: Five days in February, and then two or three days a month until we've hiked the whole thing.  Doing this meant that I could back our starting point back to Flagg, which is the real beginning of the trail anyway.  Of course, I've waffled on that a time or two, but ultimately the urge to start at the real terminus got the best of me, so here we go.

Weather looks to be glorious: Cool, dry days; cold, dry nights; no bugs to worry about.  Unfortunately, three dry sections will be even drier due to the lack of rain, but we'll handle it.

Well, here we go.  Thomas and I are packing by video call on Saturday.  I leave right after lunch on Sunday.  I plan to have a trip report up (by day) sometime week after next -- but considering how often I post stuff, maybe don't hold me to that!

Happy trails!

Trip Report: Overnight Hike in the Cheaha Wilderness

Trip Report: Overnight Hike in the Cheaha Wilderness
Cheaha Wilderness Area, Talladega National Forest
November 21/22, 2016

Thomas and I took the dog on what was supposed to be a 3-day, 18-mile loop in the Cheaha Wilderness.

The day started off a bit later than planned, because we had to stash water at Adams Gap.  Last month we had to cut a hike in the Sipsey Wilderness short due to not having enough water, and we were determined to not let it happen again.  Another month of drought, punctuated only at the end by a teasing sprinkle of rain last week, meant that the water sources were going to be dry.  Still, confident that we would be able to make the loop in the time we had and loaded down with extra water in our packs, we set off from the Cheaha trailhead of the Pinhoti Trail.  We took the Cave Creek Trail southward into the wilderness.  The views were spectactular, the sky light was warm in the cool wind, and the flappy planes were twittering in the stick towers.

Maizy was having a great time; she loved the trip last month  We met various other hikers, but didn't stop to talk.  We had miles to cover.

The first mishap was when we came to a place in the trail where people had camped at an intersection between the Cave Creek trail and another, unmarked on our map and of course unsigned.  I looked at my map, looked at my compass, looked at what little terrain I could see in the forest, and decided to head right, downhill.  I thought we had made better time than we actually had.

Near the bottom of the mountain (half way down: "I sure hope to heaven and back that this is the right trail, because I don't want to climb back up this mountain!"), we met a couple who were heading back up.  They told us it was a dead end.  I only half believed them; so we continued down as they went their way.  Eventually, though -- in less than 200 yards, to be exact -- it dawned on me that maybe I'd made a mistake in reading the map and that we should turn around and go back.  We did, and thus lost two and a half hours, total, because the climb back up was particularly bitter.  No one likes realizing they've made such a horrible mistake.  But renewed with the resolve to reach our planned camping place by nightfall, we pressed on.

The second mishap was when I again misread my map, again thinking that we were farther along than we really were.  See, I thought the trail we had accidentally followed down the mountain was part of the Cave Creek trail, and that it was heading down the mountain to its trailhead.  It wasn't until hours later that I would figure out what actually happened -- when we passed the sign for the actual trail to go off to the left and down the mountain to the real trailhead.  Something just didn't compute.  Anyway, we happened across the connector trail from the Cave Creek trail to the Pinhoti, and thus to McDill Point.  So tired were we that, upon realizing where we were, we didn't think about simply going south on the Pinhoti to our water stash, or to the intersection of the Pinhoti, Odum Scout, and Chinnabee Silent trails, which was where we were wanting to camp.  No, I'm a hard-headed fool sometimes, and slightly delerious from the exertion.  After watching a military V-22 Osprey buzz over the ridge and down the next valley at seemingly tree-top height, we reversed our steps again and returned to the Cave Creek trial.  Trail.  Same thing by this point.

Southward again we trudged, in the waning light.  We passed the turnoff where I thought we had been hours ago.  There's a really nice sign there, by the way.  We finally decided that the light was going fast and given the mishaps of the day we ought to stop and camp.

This was the first time I'd had a freeze-dried Mountain House meal.  I got us each a single-serving pouch of lasagna and one of chili-mac, since that was what looked most appealing when I was standing in Walmart late last week.  I opted for chili mac, and Thomas opted for lasagna.  Maizy opted for kibble, mixed with peanut butter.  Maizy loved her meal, and we did too -- it was surprisingly good -- enough so that I think I'll see about using them for our huge Pinhoti hike in February.

After eating and cleaning up, it was getting cold (Maizy was starting to shiver a bit), I got into the hammock.  This time I brought my TNF Blue Kazoo bag, rated to 15°.  I had my poncho liner and a blue closed-cell foam pad for insulation underneath.  I've used sleeping bags in my hammock since the beginning, but this time I didn't zip up inside it like most do.  I unzipped it all the way, put my feet in the foot-box, and then draped it over me like a quilt.  I put Maizy on my chest again, and used my poncho liner draped over us to help keep us warm.  It worked pretty well, although she kept shifting and messing up my lay.  At some point I drifted off to sleep, waking only to take my fleece hat off because my head was sweaty.  We were warm enough in the mid-20s (by my thermometer) temperatures overnight.

The next morning, after breaking camp and eating a piece of jerky each, we continued on our way.  We crossed a dry stream and within a few hundred yards came across a great-looking little campsite nestled among the trees along the trail.  Through the rest of the morning we kept passing really nice signs at various trail intersections, further compounding my aggravation for having whiffed it so bad the day before.  But as we walked we kept drinking water, and there was no more water to be found.  This became the source for the fourth mishap: I had heard that there was reliable water at Turnipseed Camp, and had somehow decided that it was "city water" -- i.e., water from a pipe.  Thus, I hadn't thought to stash water there.

Well, we came to the intersection of the Odum Scout, Pinhoti, and Chinnabee Silent trails.  I, wanting to salvage as much of the hike as possible, and being the same hard-headed guy I was yesterday, decided we should push on to Turnipseed.  "There's water there," I reasoned.

It was stagnant water in a ditch, and I still don't have a filter cartridge, so I didn't think it was safe to drink.

Ah, but I've missed a mishap.  The third mishap was as we traveled down the Chinnabee Silent Trail.  Now, some say the Stairway to Heaven on the Pinhoti Trail is the worst climb on the whole trail.  This one has to be way, way worse.  I've never seen the Stairway to Heaven, so later I may change my mind.  At least we were going down, not up.  But the other thing about Mount Cheaha is that it's made out of quartzite, which is extremely slippery, especially when there are dry leaves on it.  All the way down I was leaning on my walking stick (an awesome thing, by the way), until this one terrifying moment when even it slipped, and I was suddenly nursing a massive gash on my shin.  Fortunately, it didn't bleed much.  But man oh man did it hurt!

Down the mountain I hobbled.  When we got to what looked like a ditch of stagnant water, I wanted to stop.  But we were just outside Turnipseed Camp, so we pressed on.  We sat at a picnic table and ate lunch, and then went over to the outhouse to get water.

Only there was no water.

Turnipseed Camp has no running "city" water.

Dang.  I'd drunk all mine, and Thomas only had a little.  Adams Gap was too far in the wrong direction.  I knew there was supposed to be a water source ahead, but to be honest I was worried that it was dry as well.  And since we'd come off the mountain, cell reception was terrible.  I couldn't research it.

We talked about it for a few minutes, consideriing our options.  Climbing that mountain on the Chinnabee Silent Trail was just not an option.  Continuing on to the trail shelter near Cheaha Falls was an option, but I wasn't sure we'd find water.  The one place I knew for an utter fact would have water was the pickup truck.  So we walked out to the highway and started north, up the mountain.

We'd gone maybe a mile when a Ford F250 stopped.  "Need a ride?" the man asked.

Turns out he's a retired firefighter from Northport, my old stomping grounds.  He drove us up the mountain to the trailhead parking area and dropped us off.  Really nice fellow.

We decided we'd had about enough and went and moved our water stash at Adams Gap out to the sign so people could use it if they wanted, and went back to Oxford.  It was a great trip, but it taught us several things.

First, stash water at more places.

Second, don't be so hard-headed about the route when there are several options.

Third, take some larger gauze pads and some non-adhesive tape (tape + leg/arm hair = torture!)

Fourth, wet and cold Maizy is going to be too much to deal with when I don't have a tent.  Getting her wet, nasty paws on my sleeping bag ain't gonna fly.  So she probably should stay home from the big Pinhoti hike -- especially since taking her gear weighs a lot more than not taking her gear.

And last, we're using freeze-dried meals for at least part of the Pinhoti hike.  They're fast, easy, and pretty good.  Maybe a bit expensive, but then I don't normally buy many of the items I had planned to take instead, so the cost was going to be about the same -- or even higher -- than just doing freeze-dried.

All in all, a great trip, even with all the mishaps and having to cut it short.  I can't wait to go back!

Trip Report: Overnight Hike along Thompson Creek

Trip Report: Overnight Hike along Thompson Creek
Sipsey Wilderness Area, Bankhead National Forest
October 6/7, 2016

Thomas and I took the dog for an overnight hike in the Sipsey Wilderness.

The hike started off well enough.  Maizy was on her first ever backpacking expedition, and at first was timid and unsure.  After about half a mile, though, she was hiking like she'd been doing it all her life, and loving it.

We parked at the Thompson Creek trailhead on the northwestern side of the Sipsey Wilderness.  We crossed the creek on the old bridge.  Well, we crossed the dry creek bed.  It had been pretty dry in September when we were there hunting feral hogs, and a month of drought had left it even drier, if possible.  After crossing the creek and passing the sign board, we found a way down to the creek bed and began following it north.

After some time of cris-crossing the dry creek, we happened to notice that we were following a fairly well-defined but unmarked trail.  We followed it the rest of the day as it crossed and re-crossed the creek, into and out of the wilderness area.  We stopped for lunch at The Narrows, a place where the bluffs move close together and rise higher than seemingly anything else in the forest.

The going was hard because the stream crossings were all rocky, and the rocks were unstable.  I slipped and fell several times when a rock would move under my foot.  It was exhausting.

At some point in the early afternoon, we came to a place where our trail split.  I'd been watching for a split, but I was not sure if this was the right one.  But we decided to take it anyway, reasoning that eventually we'd happen across the old logging road we'd been wanting.  We followed it as it gently climbed the ridge until we reached a place we'd traversed last month while pig hunting.  We'd found the right one!

We camped near, but not too near, the old Gum Pond Cemetery.  Maizy was so full of energy that she wanted to play fetch, while Thomas and I could barely find the energy to eat supper.  We went to bed early, long before the sun set.

Maybe it was my fatigue, and maybe it was being away from the family for the first time in a while, but I was pretty homesick.  I don't remember being that upset.  I felt bad for Thomas, because here I was wanting to go home already, and it wasn't even really bedtime.

We slept okay.  I kept Maizy in the hammock with me, on my chest.  This meant that, first, her elbows kept digging into me right as I'd drift off to sleep, and second her growling at every skittery, crunchy noise kept me awake, and third, I couldn't sleep on my side.  But it worked out okay and we both got some sleep.  I didn't take a sleeping bag, but had my Army poncho liner, and was snug in the mild overnight temperature.

The next morning we got up, packed up, and hit the trail.  We discussed going to the big tree, as we had never actually made it there, but we were dangerously short on water and right about then a large chunk of the sole of my left shoe came off.  We had hiked around to the Brazeal trailhead (mis-named, in my opinion -- it's next to Gum Pond, so why isn't it named Gum Pond?  Makes no sense to me.) and were headed down the large horse trail that had once been the main eastern boundary for the wilderness area.  We made the turn onto 208 and headed down the ridge back to the Thompson Creek trailhead and thus the truck.

It was a great outing, and we will definitely do the loop again sometime, preferably in dry conditions because of all the creek crossings.  It would have been best if I had thought to stash water at the cemetery.  It would also have been helpful if I had remembered to buy a filter cartridge for my water filter -- there were stagnant pools of water in the creek bed, but it was obvious that wild pigs and other disease-carrying critters had been using them.

The Weighty Matter of Packing

If you’ve spent any time around backpacking forums, you know that one of the most common subjects and sources of ongoing debate is the Gear List. The Gear List is the thing that defines what kind of a hiker everyone is. Your list may be longer, with heavier items, which defines you as being a very different person from guy who has a minimalist, ultra-light loadout.

Well, here’s my preliminary Gear List for our Pinhoti hike, complete with weights. This may change somewhat (which means I get to post about it again later!), but this is my starting point. Weight is in ounces.

Packing List
A. Shelter and pack – 194oz, or 12lbs 2oz.
   1. Pack – JanSport Big Bear – 64
   2. Hammock – ENO Singlenest – 22
   3. Straps – ENO – 10.3
   4. Tarp – ENO DryFly – 22.7
   5. Stakes – basic aluminum – 4
   6. Sleeping bag – The NorthFace Cat’s Meow 15° – 48
   7. Underquilt – DIY PLUQ – 23
B. Waste Management – 39oz, or 2lbs 7oz.
   1. Trash bags – 3
   2. Toilet paper – 33
   3. Shovel – 3
C. Kitchen Equipment – 39.1oz, or 2lbs 7.1oz.
   1. Plate – 4.2
   2. Cup – 2.3
   3. Knife/fork/spoon – 1.4
   4. Stove – 6.5
   5. Pot – 7.7
   6. Fuel – 13
   7. Wind screen – 2
   8. Lighter – 2
D. Clothing – 48.7oz, or 3lbs – not including over coat, which will likely stay home
   1. Hat – 8
   2. Knit cap – 5
   3. Shirt – not available
   4. Undershirt – not available
   5. Socks (2 pr.) – 1.4
   6. Undies (2 pr.) – 1.5
   7. Shoes – not available
   8. Fleece – 15
   9. Bandanna – .9
   10. Poncho – 9.8
   11. Base layer – not available
   12. Heavy overcoat – M65 Field Coat with liner – 80
   13. Duty gloves – 2.3
   14. Winter gloves – convertible knit mittens/fingerless gloves – 4.8
E. Personal items – 47.1oz, or 2lbs 15.1oz.
   1. Towel – 1
   2. IFAK – homemade, in Altoid tin – 3.4
   3. EFAK (IFAK + extras) – 7
   4. Flashlight – 5
   5. Batteries – 1
   6. Hand sanitizer – 2.7
   7. Map and compass – 5.1
   8. Phone charger – 11.1
   9. Ear phones – 1
   10. Canteens – 6
   11. Paracord – 3.8

Total weight, not counting food: 367.9oz, or 22lbs 15.9oz.

Once I figure in food and water, I’m looking at around 30lbs. Plus, I haven’t even begun to figure in dog stuff, such as leash, cable, bowl, and especially food. I’m going to have to experiment with the poncho. I really like it better than a jacket and pants for most things, but it may not work over my huge pack. I know I could lose some weight with new, lighter equipment – especially the backpack, the sleeping bag, and going from hammock to tarp and mat. However, I (1) don’t have the money for anything new right now, and (2) I really don’t want to sleep on the ground unless I just have to. I’m looking at a lighter stove system, and I’ll be experimenting with a homemade alcohol stove – but I like my little cannister stove, which has really worked for me. Sometimes a little more weight for a bit of ease is justifiable.

Well, I think that will do for now... More to come later.

Beginning Again...

I've had this blog just sitting around for quite a long time, but I've never really done anything with it.  I created it originally to talk about our need for wilderness -- whether physical, spiritual, or emotional -- but I never really got on the blogging bandwagon.  I think I thought I just don't have anything interesting to say.  However, I've decided that, boring or not, readers or not, I am going to start posting to this blog again.  And what's more, it's going to be my trail journal and general outdoors diary.

I was told when I started this blog that Talamh Fiáin is Gaelic for "the wild land".  I guess it doesn't really matter if I'm mistaken, as long as it's not something nasty.  Still, the idea of "the wild land" is exactly what I'm wanting to explore.  Literally, in this case, though get ready for some figurative and allegorical and metaphorical explorations as well.

Now that the first bit is out of the way, let's get into the reason I decided to resurrect this old blog.

My brother Thomas and I have been hiking, canoeing, and hunting for the past eight years or so.  Maybe longer, actually.  One of our first backpacking trips was with our dad in the Sipsey Wilderness, a one-night loop hike that covered about fifteen miles or so.  It felt like a hundred, but it was so much fun.  One spring we went on a canoe trip down the Flint River in Madison County, Alabama.  We sunk the canoe on the first day and had to call for help, but it was also way more fun than I could ever have imagined.  Since then we've been on several more trips into the Sipsey Wilderness, we've started hunting, and generally spending as much time outside as the weather and our responsibilities will allow.  We live about two hours apart, so we can't get out as much as we might like, but when we do we always have fun.

Ever since I was a wee little kid, I've always wanted to go on a long canoe trip.  My grandparents live in north Jefferson County, just north of Birmingham.  Turkey Creek runs through their back yard.  It flows into the Locust Fork of the Warrior River, which joins with the Mulberry Fork and the Sipsey Fork to form the Black Warrior river.  For a long time when I was a bit older but still a kid, we lived in Tuscaloosa, which is on the banks of that Black Warrior river.  So of course I wanted to put in a canoe at my grandparents' house and float to Tuscaloosa -- or even beyond.

Once I got into backpacking as a young adult, I discovered long trails.  In particular, I discovered the Pinhoti Trail.  This trail runs from Flagg Mountain in Wetumpka to the Benton MacKaye Trail about 70 trail miles north of Springer Mountain, Georgia -- the start of the famous Appalachian Trail.  Since I discovered the Pinhoti, I've had a dream of walking the entire length of the Alabama portion, from Wetumpka to Cave Springs, Georgia.

That's what we're gearing up for now, actually.  Roughly 150 miles of hills, rocks, and steep climbs.  We're going to try to do the whole distance in one go, over two weeks in February (or maybe May, if February doesn't work out for some reason).  I'm planning for my 17 pounds of terrier energy, a dog-shaped fuzzball named Maizy, to accompany us.

Pleeeeeze throw the ball??

Before we can just set out, however, both the dog and I have to get ready.  She's young, and her vet recommended lots of walking between now and then.  I'm not quite so young, and my doctor recommended lots of walking between now and then.  So I guess we have to do lots of walking between now and then.  We're going to do the daily leash thing, of course, but the best way to build hiking muscles is to go hiking.  So you'll see trip reports from our various excursions into the Sipsey Wilderness and other places over the fall and winter as we prepare.

As for the canoe trip, I hope to be able to do that before too long.  The problem is that I sold my canoe for no good reason, other than the fact that it was old, underused, and not really in good shape.  It also wasn't exactly what I wanted in a canoe, being too tipsy for my taste.  I would really rather have a 15-foot sea kayak, but those are kind of expensive.  Maybe in the next year or two, though.

In the next installment, I'll start going over gear, resupply, and trip plans.  Until then, pray for a break in the oppressive heat!