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As I stated in my previous post A New Journey Begins I am ready for my next adventure in versatile hunting dogs.  On March 25th the G litter at vom Schlussstein Drahthaars graced the world with their glorious presence after a long night of delivery.  This was Emma’s first litter after recently running the Armbruster in Gettysburg PA.  This is where Jeff met the future sire of this litter,  Aragorn(Bodey) out of Donny Zarra’s vom Grimm Haus kennel also in PA.  If you are interested in a puppy please don’t hesitate to contact Jeff Green at jeff@green-ranch.com. 

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puppies

Inside the house it was almost feeding time, and as the puppies woke up we talked about size and personalities and of course how soon I can take mine home.  These puppies are clearly well loved by all members of the Green family, both 4 legged and 2.  With a litter of 7 males and 4 females there are plenty of mouths to feed and bellies to rub.

When you arrive at Green Ranch, more times than not, you’re greeted by 1 or more Drahts running inside the fenced yard and spinning in circles out of sheer joy of visitors headed in the driveway.  You can tell these dogs are valued members of the family.  This day we were greeted by momma Emma, gramma Ava and great grandparents Ceasar and Katie.  The new puppies inside sleeping making the 4th generation of family in a very love filled home.  To me this is a huge statement to Jeff’s dedication and love to his dogs, 4 generations under 1 roof, amazing.  Grampa Brutus(Jacob vom Buffeltaler) also lives just down the road.  There is no shortage of water soaked beards or hunting buddies at Green Ranch.

Jeff explained he recently rehomed Drake vom Schussstein after bringing him back to the ranch from the previous owner.  Drake had been there for a few of my visits and I know that his new home will be more than pleased with this great dog.  Fia is another draht at Green Ranch I have grown fond quite of, for our limited interactions.  She is a very energetic pup from Jeff’s F litter.  Fia sustained a broken leg as a puppy and has yet to leave her home at Green Ranch.  She is a great hunter and a loving dog.  Her leg injury has given her a special place in my heart after seeing Django hop along down her recovery path from her accident as a pup, never fully recovering.  I need to get some more info on Fia and some pictures to help her find a new home.  She would unquestionably make a great partner for any hunter.

Jeff and I spent some time looking at his game birds, and pens.  I told him I needed some guidance on what I would need to keep a few birds on hand for when my pup is ready to come home and start her training.  If you have a question about birds or keeping them Jeff is the guy to ask.

I am excited to have the chance to visit with both Emma and body in the coming weeks(and the puppies) at Green Ranch.  I’m sure we will have great stories to tell about the great hunters in this litter.  enough with the words, enjoy the puppy pictures!

All lined up

lined up

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basket of puppies

blue male  cream girl emma and male female male & female male 2 male 3 male nose

red maleorange male 2

purple femaleorange male peach female pink female puppies grey puppy pile

chow time

pink female 2

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cream female 2purple female 2 red male 2

This is a tiny little male that’s just plain awesome!red male 3

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emma feeding

The 7 males

the boys

 

The 4 females(I can’t wait to bring one home!)

the girls

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Saturday I picked up in Pine Grove Furnace and headed south towards Caledonia State Park, a 20 mile stretch I had not previously hiked.  After a “quick trip” completely out of the way to REI.

The past few hikes I began having trouble with my right knee,  especially when going down hill.  To date I had not hiked with trekking poles but was noticing the more I read about hiking the more popular they became, nearly all long distance hikers were using them.  By reducing my pack weight from a staggering 35+ lbs last year, to a base weight of 15 lb, I know that will help as well.  I finally conceded carrying 2-4 beers at a time just wasn’t worth it.  Maybe Santa will bring me a Backcountry Beer kit! I end up getting a good deal at REI on a pair of Black Diamond Z-poles Ultra Distance.  I’ll admit they are kind of awkward at first.  Trying to figure out a rhythm and how to properly use them took a little bit of time for me.  But with anything, practice makes perfect and in no time I went from a trail bumbler & stumbler to a trail ninja.  My arms could now help me pull my feet uphill.  As quick as I could move my poles I could move my feet and climb hills with ease.  I also added an additional mile per hour to my speed.  I took a pretty decent slip on Sunday and had I not caught myself with my pole my ankle would have been a pile of spaghetti.  I also noted at least 90% of the people I passed or met on the trail were using trekking poles as well, clearly I was now one of the well informed.

 

I made it to the Birch Run shelter in plenty of time to relax before the sun went down.  As I approached I notice a group of 7 already sitting on the porch.  Mostly college aged kids with gigantic backpacks.  5 of them were together in one group, the other was a pair of hammock campers. As we spoke the group of 5 said were heading out shortly to camp closer to their car after a 7 day trip.  They were unprepared at best.  Each had their own pack full of food and water, their own hammocks and 1 tarp between them.  4 had yoga mats and one was with without a yoga mat or an under quilt for his hammock.  He complained of cold sleepless nights.  thanks captain obvious.  He was also wearing a pair of jeans and a recently found sweatshirt with a large burn hole on the back.  He is going to be an engineer after graduation.  He already is an idiot.  Aside from their 5 hammocks they also carried a 4 person tent which they apparently had yet to use.  The idea of stacking hammocks in trees was “cooler” than keeping warm in a tent.  If they had spent more time planning their trip in regards to actual safety instead of safety meeting supplies(which they still had PLENTY of) they might have gotten some decent rest.

I was joined by two other hikers in the Bird Run shelter that night.  honestly they were pretty nice guys, both recent college grads, one debating which law school he was going to attend.   They were both generous with their offering of food or water.  However hanging a pair of hammocks in the middle of the shelter is a bit lacking of courtesy to others.  the group of 4 men had set up shop across from the shelter by this point and weren’t interested in fighting for shelter space.  I thought it quiet odd that the hammock guys thought it prudent to hang their food bags on the bear bag pole shortly after making banana pancake’s in the shelter, and spilling pancake mix on one of the bunks.  Although genuinely decent folks, this is why we can’t have nice things.

Sometime in the middle of the night another hiker slid into the shelter and pulled out his bag.  I spoke to him in the morning and he explained he was at the last road at sunset and decided to push on.  He passed no less than 5 campsites to get to the shelter.  He was wearing gym shorts and insulating bottoms.  Admittedly he froze the entire night.  He set off to warm up in his car another mile and a half down trail, after declining a hot cup of free coffee.

I made my breakfast, enjoyed a pair of vanilla cappuccinos and left the shelter by 8.

Edit  Edit

I met Rev C and Shakedown Cruise a few hundred yards from the quarry Gap shelter where they had stayed the night prior.  They’re on their first half of their flip flop heading NOBO our of Harpers Ferry.  We chatted mid trail for about 20 minutes before I wished them luck with their hike and good health.  They had short attainable goals for the first few days/weeks.  Based on their attitudes alone, I know they will finish their hike successfully.  I told them I was jealous of their adventure and we parted ways.

 

 

 

 

 

As spring is arriving I am beginning to see more hikers on the trail which is a double edged sword.  More folks to talk to but also more people to watch out for.  If there’s one thing I learned this weekend it is how unprepared some people really are for the chilly nights.  If any one of those people would have gotten wet they would have been in some serious trouble.  It was below freezing Saturday night on the mountain.  Trade the hippie lettuce for long johns kids.

 

 

I’m a person freedom guy. Its your body, it’s your choice when it comes the hippie lettuce.

Trip miles: 20

AT miles YTD: 84.3

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There’s something about starting a hike on a Saturday afternoon at the bottom of a mountain I just can’t seem to remember.  After a nearly sleepless night and a great opening day of trout season(ref The Student becomes the teacher) I finally opened my new GoLite Jam 50 pack I bought online. Yes I know I just bought an Osprey Exos a few weeks ago, but this one is lighter and blue.  So go count something you own too many of then we’ll talk.  

I figured out a game plan of parking at Rt 81 and heading north to the William Penn Shelter to spend the night, then off to 183 for a Sunday afternoon pick up.  Along the way I ran into two gobblers and kicked up two grouse which pretty much made the trip worth it by itself.

 

  

  

  

 Shortly after passing the wildlife I started to notice my back was getting a little soggy. My Osprey Exos has excellent air flow but I still get hot having the back on my back. At one point I took my GoLite Jam off and felt it for dampness, finding only what I assumed was back sweat. In my rush to get hiking I neglected to put my gear inside a contractor bag seperating it from my water bladder sleeve. After the soggy dampness turned to chilly water on the seat of my pants reality sank in, quickly. Somehow my hose loosened from the bladder spilling water into the sleeve and then directly into the gear compartment. I dropped my back and set up for a yard sale right in the middle of the trail. Ripping things out as fast as possible to make sure what needed to be dry, still was. I have never been so thankful to spend $20 a piece for Sea to Summit Nano sil dry stuff sacks in my life. Aside from my wet white butt and my sleeping pad everything stayed dry. Including my DIY down quilt. That would have been detrimental to getting any sleep or being warm at night. 

  

As I approached the last mile before the shelter things got weird. It’s not uncommon to find people’s belongings left behind on the trail. But not like this. The first grocery bag I came across had some dry cotton long johns I could see though the bag hanunging on the root ball of a downed tree. The second bag a few hundred yards down contained: a belt, a woolen scarf with matching red mittens, a sweat shirt, and a full sized paperback book.  This bag caught my curiosity pretty well and had me looking around and over my shoulder. It just didn’t add up.  The third bag put me over the threshold from curious to weirded out. At this point I am over 2 miles from the nearest main road. The third bag contains a wet pair of campfire smokey denim jeans, a pair of needle nose pliers, a full sized can opener, and an electric(corded) Wahl hair clippers, freshly used.  The overly skeptical of everything mindset is not having any part of this shelter tonight, I thought to myself. 

 

  

  

  

 

I made it to the 501 shelter to find two hikers from VA and a NOBO thru hiker finishing off up an attempt from a few years ago named Beavis.  His name was quite fitting, of course we got along great.  Had I known previously I would spent the night at 501 I would have forgone carrying my dinner the whole way and ordered of the delivery menu stack like everyone else did. Meat lovers pizza with extra cheese sure smells amazing while eating rehydrated freeze dried beef stew out of a bag. 

 

 I think all those sketchy grocery bags along the trail hgot to my head and I ended up having nightmares and waking up several times throughout the night. The worst kind of nightmare to have while you’re sleeping in an AT shelter, is a nightmare about something in an AT shelter.  The wind howling all night and the outside temp in the mid 20’s didn’t help me sleep either. 

I made my way out of 501 convinced I would have a nice hot breakfast in an hour or so at a tent site I saw on the guide.  I passed a few hikers that morning. While I was bumbling down the trail they were racing up towards the adventures ahead. One girls I passed had a pack far larger than mine including a tent that judging by the poles strapped to the bottom of her bag was more of a palace than a tent. I also passed a nother man with a pack at least 70 liters filled to the brim. It boggles my mind some of the bull and weight people carry.  I’m all for comfortable camping but the cling part only comes after the hiking part. I must spend too much time buying, researching or weighing my gear on my food scale. Ironically I was still having some knee issues and it was really slowing me down. I took a few short breaks and ended up sitting down on the side of the road at Rt 183 as my ride arrived. Perfect timing. 

   

            Mysterious white powder in the drinking cup box for “Good Friday” no thanks.   

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Some part of me always seems to want to pick up where I last left off.  Hiking is no different.  After the trek from Duncannon to Boiling Springs to start the year the next logical thing to do would be pick up right where I left off.  Starting in Boiling Springs right at the ATC and head south towards Pine Grove Furnace and the AT Museum. 

 

  

 As I arrived at the ATC headquarters beside Children’s Lake it was great to see that I was not the only one intending to hike today.  Even with the wind and cold, and snow a group of about 7 people were also gearing up across the parking lot.  Then it hit me, they were boy scouts.  My heart sank.  Let me be honest.  I think in practice that boy scout are a great thing, and they do many wonderful things for children, society and the outdoors.  However, I feel the same way about Boy Scouts as I do Nuclear Power Plants, not in my back yard.  I want to enjoy peace and quiet while hiking.  Most(not all) of my Boy Scout encounters are filled with noisy awkward young men and older men with more patience than myself.  Kudos to all of them though, seriously!  I was more than relieve when they exited the parking lot heading North knowing my route would be to the South. 

 

  

  

  

  

  I walked passed the lake to a rather confusing lack of signage to the opposite side of the Yellow Breeches heading towards the mountains.  It’s always nice to look ahead across a snow covered and wind filled field knowing you’ll be spending the night on top of the distant mountain, sort of.  Better keep moving.  Half way across the field I thought to myself how I wish I had some of those fancy waterproof boot gaiters those boy scouts were wearing, instead of my trail runners and moderately wet pants, well played scouts well played. 

 I came across my first thru hiker for the year headed NOBO to Canada.  He had cut his thru hike short at Harpers Ferry last year.  For a thru hiker a few things struck me as odd.  His full mismatched army issue Gore-Tex pants, and coat, paracord belt and super sweet Hyperlite Mountain Gear pack, worth about twice as much as the rest of his belongings, including the sleeping bag in a garbage bag tied to the top.

 I made it to the shelter long before dark after showing a group of hikers how to cross the stream we came to at the same time.  I did ask one of them to bite the bullet and carry us all across, he declined.  I went for it and made it across dry, laughing as the first one in got a wet foot after explaining which way to go.  With a belly full of hot food listened to the sound of dirt bikes racing through the woods off in the distance.  As night fell dirt bikes turned into tuba practice.  Yes tuba practice.  There is no animal known to inhabit north American that can carry a tune like a big brass tuba that I know of, so a tuba it was.  

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

 Before I could make it out of Dodge a volunteer for the Maryland Hikers Club showered up carrying saw dust for the privy and to check on everything with the shelter, 3 of which he was checking on today.  They do a great service, always off them hot coffee. 

 I finished off the hike to Pine Grove Furnace moving a little slower than usual due to ice from people traffic but I made it none the less.  I ended up talking to a hiker called Earth Tone, he runs the AT Museum and invited me in to talk about hiking.  I had seen several shelter logs he singed into and it’s always nice to put a face to a trail name.  I told him he would see me again, he will. 

The general store wasn’t open so the Half Gallon Challenge will have to wait until 2016.  As a Tonkin, I fear no ice cream.            

   

     

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Anyone who has hunted or fished with me knows, I’m a pain in the ass in the morning.  Seriously, hear me out.  I have a one track mind when it comes to hunting or fishing.  Just go, now!  When I wake up it’s all business.  I don’t want to come up with  a plan in the morning.  I don’t want to stop for coffee or breakfast.  I don’t want to answer a lot of questions, or really even talk.  I want to get to the spot and get set up as efficiently as possible.  I’m not a morning person even when it comes to hunting.  It can be pretty bad.  More than once I have hung up on a good friend for asking too many questions before sunrise.  Now try having that mindset when taking a 6 year old for his literal First Day of trout.

Saturday morning was the first day of trout season in PA.  Not a big deal to a (questionably) seasoned fly fisherman such as myself.  But to a 6 year old it can be as good if not better than ::insert meaningful holiday here::.  I hadn’t fished the first day of trout for as long as I can remember.  Too many people fishing too close, for trout that are too stupid, and too small to put up a fight.  That’s too many too’s for me.  But it is a great time for a youngster to catch the fishing bug.

I spent many a first day of trout beside my brothers and father on Clarks Creek Children’s section, reeling in my fair share of trout.  My father wasn’t interested in going to Clarks anymore, nor was I.  Not without at least 3 Bloody Mary’s and a DD.  It can be overly crowded to put it nicely.

I made a few phone calls Friday night and reluctantly decided Middletown Reservoir would do.  It’s close by, and loaded with fish for the first day.  Not having been there for the better part of a decade and a half I opted to swing by that evening and try to find a good spot to spend the morning.  I did see a pair of Hooded Mergansers, a Bald Eagle and Red tail hawk looking pleasantly plump from a week of gorging themselves on freshly stocked trout. If find it quite odd that people believe by placing chairs and ropes on public property it reserves their “spot” for opening day, the day or week prior to opening morning.  This was not encouraging by any means.  I could already see the hundreds of “fishermen” throwing garbage on the bank, and anticipated a heated exchange with 1 or more people in the morning.  No less than a dozen people camped out the night before to keep their place along the bank.  Amazing.

At 4 am we woke up to head out to hopefully beat the crowd to a decent place on the opposite side of the pond from the parking lots.  Knowing the average human refuses to put forth any more effort than absolutely required to catch a fish.  It worked out for the best arriving at the parking lot to actually get a spot and made our way around the pond in the dark.  Knowing we still had a few hours to kill before we could fish, after getting to our spot I did the only thing a hiker can do.  I pulled out 2 hammocks and hung them in the trees.  Serving not only as great resting spots but also helping to keep all the other fisherman at bay,  it worked.  After the hammocks made their debut, we had hot coffee and oatmeal for breakfast.  Courtesy of my backpacking stove and the newly upright stump/table.  Other fisherman were notably jealous. Explaining how if we would pick up the trash other fisherman left behind it would help is catch more resulted in 2 full bags of trash and plenty of tight lines.

When you’re 6 and your hands are warm in borrowed gloves, but your feet are cold, necessity is the mother of invention.

The novice fisherman and his novice father, who decided 7:55 was a great time to show up and cram in on our spot, got the pleasure of being out fished by a 6 year old.  Their humble pie was served cold.

With the total for the day 4 trout to 1(thankfully he was in the hammock warming up), I humbly admitted defeat and made him carry his prizes out himself.  Right passed every other fisherman in sight as they all looked on and congratulated him on a great day.

      

When it comes fishing and kids the only important thing is having fun, and getting them to want to come back.  Sometimes it means bringing sleeping bags and hammocks to stay warm in, and even bringing home a fish or 2, or 4.  Humility is learned on the banks of the waterways beside a 6 year old, catching trout.

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Saturday I began my 2015 hiking season where I left off last year, Duncannon PA.  I started the day at 1:30 near the train station in town. After screwing around finding food and leaving Gander Mt to head to Bass pro, to buy the same food I would have bought anyway. What a great waste of time. I hadn’t hiked this section previously and began a bit later than I had hoped (Lesson #1 just buy the damn food!). It was a bit rainy out when I left the train station to head towards the trail and up the mountain, luckily I had my Marmott Storm Watch rain jacket, newly resprayed with silicone spray (Lesson #2 always respray on warm days, prior to hiking day).

Thankfully it still managed to keep me pretty dry. I made it to Hawk Rock after a quick uphill climb to find the allegedly great overlook filled with a foggy abyss.  It actually made me a little uneasy not being able to see the rocky bottom of the valley from the overlook.

I really need to do a better job of making myself take a rest every 2 hours to get the weight off my feet and shoulders. I’m notorious for hiking until I can’t hike then taking a short break just to catch my breathe before going on.  I’m paying the price for that now on Monday (Lesson #3 take breaks, period).  I made it to the Darlington Shelter around 6:30 fully expecting to end up hiking in the dark (Lesson #4 keep your headlamp handy in your hip belt pocket).  I made the 11 mile hike on about 5 hours (Lessons #5 & #6 hiking in the fog is super badass awesome! & Never connect your hydration hose down near your hip unless you want soggy pants).

I spent the extremely windy night at the Darlington Shelter with another hiker heading north on a 70 mile trip. The wind was howling all night leading to an extreme loss of sleep (Lesson #7 ear plugs, who forgets those?!).  

I had previously arranged for a Sunday afternoon pick up in Boiling Springs around 3-4.  Luckily before my battery died due to the cold weather eating up my battery I managed to send a text about approximate time to meet (Lesson #8 always turn your phone off at night and have a charger with you).  All in all the trips was great.  The wind was crazy at times like crossing this field near the 81 bridge. I made it to Boiling Spring an hour before my expected pick up time with no way to contact them so I got to hang out with some awesome ducks in the wind and cold!   

There is nothing like looking back to the mountain you slept on the night before and seeing it miles away!

Although I’m pretty sore from 26 miles total for the weekend, it was a great way to start the hiking season for the year!

    

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I believe I have worked out all the kinks in the website now!  Check out the NiknotOutdoors homepage. I have subpages for Fly fishing, Hiking, and Hunting in no particular order. I’m also going to be adding a ton of picture galleries and eventually some video. Feel free to contact me with any suggestions to help improve on the site. 

Big things coming on 2015.  Don’t talk about it, be about it!