If you’ve ever wondered about the feasibility of building a fire by rubbing sticks, here’s your answer. Check it out here, or on my previous entry on the YouTube version.

It’s been two years to the day since I completed the summit at Mt. Katahdin with “New York Minute.” It was a celebration of not only completing the Appalachian Trail, but of restarting my life. The heart surgery was a life-changing experience and made me much more aware of the important things in life, the things I love, the people I love, and the thrill of just enjoying all that life brings.

Even the difficult and trying situations that life throws at us can be enjoyed. Often, a gray cloud does have a silver lining, although it may not be that obvious at first. Just like the trail itself, when water can be in short supply, the weather frigid, the winds biting and hunger overpowering, the challenges can always teach something.

I like to sit back once in a while and just think about how fortunate I am to still be here. Life is a gift to enjoy, and I’m doing all I can to wring out all the enjoyment I can. I recently returned from a book signing tour up and down the east coast of this great country and I was thrilled to meet so many wonderful and interesting people. It was so enjoyable to hear their many stories, especially concerning the Appalachian Trail and other hikes. It is a community that I am proud to be a member of.

Thanks to all. Thanks for making this the best two years of my life. Hopefully, there will be many more.

Dennis “K1” Blanchard

The cool morning mist had not yet lifted. The heavy fog of morning gave one the sensation of floating, rather than walking. As I ambled through it, there was a sensation of a time warp. The surrounding forest approached surreal; something out of a sci-fi script. My mind wandered and I imagined this stretch of the Appalachian Trail as it was almost a hundred and fifty years previously during the Civil War.

A rebel unit was hiding in the underbrush, just off to the right. One young lad was lying very still, frozen with both fear and the sense that any movement might announce his position. Mosquitoes busily worked his skin but he dared not flick them away. The moss near his nostrils had that moist, yet distinctive odor that confirmed he was on some very damp ground. He tried to ignore all around him and just focus on the trail in front of him.

Approaching on the trail a small unit of Union soldiers worked their way up the hill. They had set out before dawn, not certain of their objective, but very aware that this was enemy territory. In spite of that awareness, they had not encountered any resistance in some days and they were hopeful that this day would play out the same way. They were warriors, but warriors by no means look forward to sudden death.

One soldier pondered his canteen. As he gazed at the cap he imagined it a tankard of his favorite brew. True, it was very early in the day, but with the miles already covered, his thirst for a savory brew was compelling. As if the unit leader sensed his desire, the order came down to break for a few minutes. As mosquitoes circled he removed the cover from the canteen and started to drink with gusto and imagined it to be that brew.

At that very moment there was a distant flash, and then a fusillade of light and thunder let loose and in that moment the soldier’s short life came to an end. The remaining Union soldiers replied in a rage of fire. Two opposing armies, strangers to each other, now committed their very existence to killing each other.

In the ensuing moments young lives were snuffed out. The body where once mosquitoes feasted would no longer respond to their sting. The forest fell silent and I descended into that forest alone with my thoughts and the ghosts that still haunt the trail.

I really thought that by now I would have had some comments about the black-ops helicopter incidents that I discussed in the book, THREE HUNDRED ZEROES. Even though I don’t convey my sense of fear that I experienced in the book, I do admit being somewhat concerned during those events.

Oddly, I haven’t seen any discussion of the events that I described. I wasn’t the only hiker that had these experiences, and I did have them over a two-year period. I’m not a conspiracy nut and I try to rationally explain what happened in the book, but was I right? Could there have been some other explanation? Did I miss something? It certainly was an unusual experience. What are your thoughts readers?

Dennis “K1” Blanchard

The first sentence in THREE HUNDRED ZEROES reads,
“Have you ever dreamt about doing something totally foolish, something so absurd that perhaps you were afraid to tell anyone except possibly those closest to you?”
Taking that giant step and going off and doing that dream can lead to so many new possibilities Having hiked the entire Appalachian Trail I realized that it was time to pay it forward. All along the trail I had so many strangers help me out. They’re called “Trail Angels,” and they help with rides, food, drink and shelter. Yesterday I spent the entire day parked at the Kinsman Notch road crossing waiting for hikers to pass by.

Sadly, the weather didn’t cooperate and was miserable. It rained most of the day, quite heavily at times, and there was a constant fog, or cloud cover and it was cold. That particular road crossing is located at the foot of Mt. Mooselauke, in New Hampshire and to get there the northbound hikers have to cross the summit of Mt. Mooselauke.

I arrived very early in the day and around 9 am a shuttle driver from Manchester Center, VT, showed up with a northbound hiker. The hiker left immediately and the driver, Mark Shaw , (trail name: “Bad Influence”) stuck around a while to chat. He had also brought along some goods to create some “trail magic” and when he realized I was completely set up for the day, he left his items with me to distribute; things such as alcohol for stoves, chocolate chip cookies, toilet paper and batteries for headlights. If you know of hikers looking for a shuttle in the VT/NH area, get in touch with him, he is a class act: trailhead10@gmail.com  (802-477-2048)

Even though I had plenty of goods to make a hearty breakfast, my first hikers didn’t show up until about 3:30 in the afternoon. As I peered out of a rain blurred windshield in the van I made out two blurred forms coming in my direction. It was “Slow Ride,” and “White Chocolate.” They had decided to brave the weather and cross over the mountain top. It was a serious challenge and “Slow Ride” had a bad fall on the way down the mountain and was in some pain, but seemed to be managing it. I made them hamburgers and hot dogs with all the fixin’s and they devoured them.

They stayed for some time eating and warming up. Eventually they packed up and went over to the road to hitch a ride into Lincoln. It was then I realized that I hadn’t offered them  the cookies, so I walked over to the roadside with them and was handing out the cookies when a car stopped and guy jumped out to offer them a ride into town. He too then dove into the cookies. We must have made quite a site on the roadside, me divvying out cookies and everyone munching. Such is the AT.

A few minutes later, after they left, “Littlefoot” came up to my van. He was soaked, cold and elated that he made it over the mountain in such conditions. Again, I made hamburgers, and hot dogs and offered him some corned beef hash and eggs. He ate it all. He had never had corned beef before and really liked it.

While “Littlefoot” was eating, “Ghetto Sheep” arrived. I had seen her come into the parking lot earlier that morning and get out of a car and hit the trail. She is doing a thru-hike, but had been shuttled there by family. She had done a section of the trail and was now back at the trail head to await her shuttle. She too had something to eat. “Littlefoot” was shivering and it was then I recalled I also had hot cocoa, so I brewed up a big pot of hot water and got that into him, along with offering him an old blanket. He warmed up in no time.

This is a common malady on the trail. While hiking the body stays very warm, even with little clothing, but when one stops, the steamy wet body cools quickly and the cold sets in.

“Ghetto Sheep’s” shuttle arrived and she was off. We waited around a while longer, and when it was almost dark, we decided to head down to Lincoln. “Littlefoot” was looking to stay at “Chet’s Hostel” in Lincoln, so I gave him a ride there and met Chet and rode off into the sunset.

In all, it was an absolutely wonderful experience, I’m only disappointed that the weather kept so many from coming over the mountain. I had enough supplies for about 40 hikers. I won’t have time to get back up there and do it again since I have book events pretty much scheduled from now until Labor Day.

Thanks to all the Trail Angels out there, I can really, really appreciate all that you did for me when I was at the mercy of the trail.

Dennis “K1” Blanchard
AT 07/08

Tomorrow, 25 August, Wednesday, I’ll spend the day at the NH RT112/App. Trail crossing doing my turn at being a Trail Angel. There will be hamburgers, hot dogs, veggie burgers, vegetarian beans, fruits, and cold drinks. I hope to see a bunch of long distance hikers going through. It’ll be fun to see and meet some of the class of 2010 thru-hikers.

The parking lot at the intersection is not to far from North Woodstock, NH. If I recall, something like 8 miles. The weather is supposed to be miserable, but I’ll have the minivan and it will provide some shelter for those that want it. See you out there.

Dennis “K1” Blanchard