Bert's Hiking Page

When I was 7, I became a Cub Scout; so it was only natural that at age 11, I joined a full-fledged Boy Scout troop. And yet, scouting was difficult for me. I was a member (in good standing, for at least three years) of Boy Scout Troop 68 in Jamaica, Queens. But, I never got beyond Second Class. Actually, that was better than some of my peers (Merit Hartblay, Jody Blanke, Jeslie Chermak) who each dropped out after a difficult initiation. I didn't know that initiation was supposed to be traumatic (hanging upside-down in a tree, for many hours), (scaring the wits out of us, on the basis that an insane murderer had escaped from a nearby mental hospital, and we needed to help find him...), but I guess it just was.

I liked the hiking, though. The companionship was OK, but the beginning of getting out into nature myself, sometimes alone, and seeing how wild and beautiful it could be excited me.

I should digress and say that when I was 8, I went away to summer camp for the first time and realized 1) I was never going to be a very good baseball player and 2) that I really enjoyed hikes in the woods and to the 'Indian Caves', a limestone outcropping that had crevices just large enough to crawl through.

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This year (2005) at Yom Kippur, I decided that I wanted to do something different.  I wanted to celebrate the spirit of the solemn holiday, by fasting, but I didn't want to sit in Synagogue all day and pray.  Praying just doesn't have that much personal meaning to me.   So, I decided to take a hike.

On Yom Kippur, fasting (except for water), I set off on my first overnight solo on the Appalachian trail.  I chose a seven mile hike to a landmark in Maryland named 'Annapolis Rocks', that, best as I can tell overlooks Hagerstown.  Well, that is it would have overlooked Hagerstown and environs, if I could have seen the vista.  But, in fact, all I could see was mist.  The whole time I hiked, it was raining.  But, I'd forgotten that it doesn't rain much on the forest floor.  The forest canopy catches most of the rain.  So, my experience was that of a misty hiker.

After arriving at my destination and putting my pack down, I decided to look at the rocks and to search for the spring that was rumored to be present.  Pretty soon I could see where the steep slope demarcating the valley below was located, but it took quite a while longer for me to find the spring.  When I did, I realized why I had been warned against drinking the water.  The stream emanating from the spring was muddy and leaves were piled against the source.  I can't imagine that the water was Giardia free.

I brought many clothes to keep me warm.  And, in my relatively new North Face Expedition tent, there was really no problem with shelter (this is the same tent edition
'oft used on Everest, so I really had nothing to worry about from the weather). 

My toes were quite another matter, however, as after 14 miles and two days of hiking, my feet for sure, hurt.

On the way, between fears of a bear attack (as I really was one of only a very few souls out hiking that day), I marveled at the number of nuts and berries available to a hungry person walking in the woods in mid-October.  It seemed to me that nature had provided much for me to gaze on, try, and think about, during my brief vision quest.

And, all too soon, it ended.  This hike and brainstorm of mine.  And, I was back in the world that I inhabit every day.  A world filled with vehicles, computers, and written communications of every possible sort.  A world that is very foreign to the forest and spring I'd visited only a day before.

I am startled to be questioning myself as to which world I prefer:  The forest or the lab.
The answer is obvious, the forest, of course.

December 2005