Boeing 747 Videos

Among other things, to work in the secure area of an airport you have to take a security badge class. It usually involves an hour long computer video course followed by test questions. A couple years ago the administrative assistant who filled out my paper work accidentally signed me up to take an extra class that gave me driving privileges on the ramp areas. I protested to the badging officer that I didn't need those privileges and didn't want to take the extra class. He would hear none of it and made me take the driving class to get my badge. One of the videos in the class was a demonstration of what would happen if you drove behind a jet engine at power. They used an old operations truck at San Francisco International Airport behind an unidentified United Airlines Jet (not a 747) . The video was so cool I purposely got the test question wrong a couple times so I could see the video over and over. I stumbled across it on You Tube today -here it is:



I found my way the above video after watching a Top Gear episode where they do the same thing with a Virgin 747.



Which led me to this video of a steep banking South African Airways 747 at an airshow.



Which led me to this super shortfield 747 takeoff video in Bournemouth Airport, UK.



Which led me to this video of a KLM 747 landing at St. Martins. The beach on St. Martins runway end is known for low flying aircraft!



Which led me to this video of flight deck footage from another KLM landing at St. Martins.



The author / pilot of the above video had a very informative description of how a 747 approach should be flown:

On an approach on instruments a B747 should cross the runway threshold (= the piano keys) with the main wheels at ± 35 ft above threshold. The 747 is so big that at that point the altitude of the cockpit is 35 ft higher, so the cockpit is at ± 70 ft when main wheels cross the threshold.
On a visual approach, as is the case here at St.Maarten, we have to have some more margin. Normally the pilot aims to see the runway threshold disappear under the nose at 80 ft (mind you, the main wheels are at that moment still NOT above the threshold) to have sufficient main wheel clearance.
If you look at the video and notice the altitude callouts, you see the threshold disappear under the nose at the call 50, so actually I am a bit too low in stead of too high. (Actually I am only too low for a visual approach. If you look at my landing at JFK http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4YoXy... you will see that I cross the threshold also at 50 ft, which is normal on an instrument approach. Note: the automatic altitude callouts you hear on this video are Radio Altimeter altitudes. The Radio Alt is zero when the gear is on the ground with struts extended.)
Now, there are quite some viewers who think we landed too far on the runway. What follows from earlier explanation is this:
We approach a runway at a three degrees approach angle. If main wheels cross the threshold at the correct altitude, the main wheels will hit the runway at approx 900ft (300m) behind the threshold, that is, if you don't flare the airplane. If you look again at the video and wait till you hear 50,40,30,20,10 and see the solid white markers, they are at 900ft behind the threshold and the plane touches down right behind them, because I did flare the airplane. (Passengers seem to hate hard landings!!)
THIS IS THE NORMAL TOUCHDOWN POINT FOR A B747.
The FCTM(=Flight Crew Training Manual) from Boeing says: flare distance is approx 300 to 600mtr (=900 to 1800ft) beyond the threshold.

The final video is a bone-chilling aborted takeoff gone wrong. I know no details of this accident other than it was a cargo plane not a passenger plane.

Savannah Cats

So I was reading Cat Fancy Magazine today... Yes I read Cat Fancy Magazine, in fact I am a premier subscriber - it's my favorite magazine! Okay, I don't really have a subscription to Cat Fancy Magazine, but I did happen to find myself thumbing through one today where I came across an add featuring a Savannah Cat.




I'm inherently a cat person, although I love the companionship, loyalty, and ability to travel that dogs offer. I'm not one to have a dog just to have a dog. I prefer having a dog as a sidekick that can adventure with me. Molly fits that bill perfectly and although the rest of the pack may have less experience they have all done well on various adventures and are awesome dogs that I have grown to love. Cats, on the other hand, I dig just to have around. They are independent yet affectionate and relatively low maintenance. A Savannah Cat sounds like the perfect cross between these two extremes.


Savannah Cats are a crossbreed between a domestic cat and the wild African Serval Cat. They are huge, standing up to 20" tall, 30" long and can weigh up to 30 pounds! Their temperament has been described more like that of dogs than cats, most notably due to their extreme loyalty to their owners. Their wild influence makes them incredibly athletic compared to a domestic house cat. They have been known to jump over 8 feet from a standstill. They are also incredibly smart. Owners have to "cat-proof" their cabinets and outside doors because the cats have been known to figure out how to open both. Odder still are Savannah Cat's love water, they swim, jump in the shower, and have been known to play in their water bowl. Savannah Cats are also easily leash trained and due to their high athletic level usually enjoy going on walks. The pictures I saw in the magazine today are Here, where you can really see how big they are in comparison to a normal Cat. You can also learn more about Savannah cats Here.










Right about now your thinking "As if he doesn't have enough animals, now Alex is going to run out and get a Savannah Cat!" Well as amazed as I am by them, I'm not going to do that. Even if I could afford or would ever spend $7000 to $12000 (you read that right!) on a pet. And even if I could some how selfishly allow myself to get another animal at the expense of our existing ones, I still wouldn't do it. Thanks to Jo's influence, I just don't believe in anything other than adopting a dog or cat. There are just too many out there in need of a good home to morally allow myself to ever consider any other option. That said, if in the far distant future Jo and I find ourselves with fewer dogs and cats and happen to come across a Savannah Cat at the local feline rescue I'll be all over it!

A Better Way to Walk the Dog

There are certain things in our Universe that when combined form a sum much greater than the parts. These two are perfect marriage of fun and function.

Why oh why didn't I do this sooner? Why?? Diogee is a Healer mix and is the smartest and most energetic dog of the pack. He is sensitive to other dogs, so the dog park or open space isn't a great option for him because he can't always run freely. The longboard is the perfect solution to give him a chance to stretch his legs and me a chance to carve. Superior is a planned community of which most aspects disgust me thoroughly, but it does have lots of well maintained bike paths which are perfect to longboard on. Diogee and I can go any number of routes in the maze of bike paths and neighborhood streets.

When we first start our skate Diogee pulls hard and with a purpose so I try to pace him so he'll last for the duration of the ride. He quickly figured out to stay out off the front of the board and my signals on which way to turn. I give him a little leash tension in the direction I want to go and he leads me that way.

I love the feeling of carving down the path and the shocked looks of the soccer moms as we cut across the street in front of them. I'm sure I've set a bad example for the kids in the neighborhood, but that's half the fun. The biggest problem I have is going too fast. It's downright scary at times and the only way I know how to slow down is to plant my foot on the pavement in short bursts. I've had to bail into the grass a couple times because the foot technique didn't work, but I'm learning. I always hold the leash with an open hand so I can release Diogee instantly in the event I crash, I wouldn't want to take him down with me.

We average about 10mph, it's a good speed for him and I make sure to slow the pace at times so he can sniff and mark along the path. At 10 mph with stops we cover about 3 miles in 20 minutes. It's a great and efficient work out for him and a fun pastime of my youth for me. What a perfect way to walk the dog!

Training Update:

I was pretty wasted from yesterday's ride and it was cold and snowing today. I decided to do a recovery ride and spun in the gym for 45 minutes at a constant heart rate of 145 beats per minute. I hate spinning indoors and 45 minutes seemed like an eternity, luckily I had a couple Simpson's episodes downloaded on my Ipod to keep me entertained!

Training Update 3-4-08

This year I'm going to post training updates of my cycling progress so readers can follow along with my season. I'll post them individually and as part of other posts.

Doug and I battled the descending temps and strong winds that accompanied a cold front moving into the Front Range today. We rode 38 miles in 2:06 for an average speed of 18 mph. The wind was relentless and took a huge toll on us at times. Doug is in better shape than me and has a 2 month head start, but I wanted to ride harder than last week so I tried to maintain a good tempo throughout and wouldn't let myself drop off his wheel on the only climb of the ride. On the way back into Denver we ran into Nelson Vails. Nelson was a 1983 Pan American Games Cycling Gold Medalist and a 1984 Olympic Cycling Silver Medalist. You can read more about him Here and Here. I know Nelson from work and bought my Litespeed road bike from him a couple years ago. Nelson entertained us with stories from his cycling exploits on the bike path as the temperature dropped and the winds picked up. I was glad to be out of the cold by rides-end. I feel like today was the first real training ride of the year, it was finally more than just waking up the legs. After we rode I finished my workout with 5 miles on the long-board with Diogee, expect a post about that soon.

Food. When I start riding after some time off my metabolism or at least my appetite seems to spike. I've had insatiable hunger since last week. The combination of 2 days of riding and then doing nothing but sitting on my arss for 4 days straight at work has not been good for keeping the weight down. In an 80 hour period I ate the following in order:

Friday:

1 Glass of Orange Juice

3 Egg and Cheese Burrito on Whole Wheat Tortilla

1 Sobe Energy Drink

1 Bag of Trail Mix

1 Turkey and Cheese Sandwich

1 Cup of Cottage Cheese with Pineapple

1 Can Izze Orange Soda

1 Bag of Bagel Chips w/Hummus Dip

1 Small Toblerone Candy Bar

1 Can Coke Classic

2 Lean Cuisine TV Dinners

1 Bag of Baked Lays

2 Chocolate Milano Cookies

Saturday:

3 Scrambled Eggs w/ Cheese

4 Pieces of French Toast w/ Syrup

6 Glasses of Orange Juice

6 Pieces of Bacon

2 Links of Sausage

1 Cup of Cantaloupe

1 Cinnamon Roll

1 Cup of Coffee

1 Can Izze Orange Soda

1 Turkey and Cheese Sandwich

1 Cup of Cottage Cheese w/ Pineapple

1 Bag of Bagel Chips w/ Hummus Dip

1 Small Toblerone Candy Bar

1 Can Coke Classic

2 Lean Cuisine TV Dinners

2 Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 Glass of Milk

Sunday:

2 Egg and Cheese Burrito on Whole Wheat Tortilla

1 Sobe Energy Drink

1 Bag of Trail Mix

1 Turkey and Cheese Sandwich

1 Bag Boulder Natural Chips

1 Bag Bagel Chips w/ Hummus Dip

1 Small Tolblerone Candy Bar

1 Can Coke

2 Lean Cuisine TV Dinners

1 Can Izze Orange Soda

1 Veggie Wrap

1 Snickers Candy Bar

Monday:

1 Cup Coffee

1 Small Muffin

1 Large Egg, Cheese, Tomato, and Pepper Burrito

1 Large Latte

1 Turkey and Cheese Sandwich

1 Bag of Bagel Chips w/ Hummus Dip

1 Can Coke Classic

1 Plate of Chicken and Pasta

I usually don't eat this much in an entire week and worse yet about 1/3 of those things are super unhealthy. Luckily my metabolic spike and resulting gluttony are over and I'm back to a normal diet and healthy food. Ugh, just thinking about all that makes me sick...

Progress on the Honda

I was able to work a little more on the Honda last week. Click Here and Here for previous Honda posts. When the car was stolen the bastards punched the radio and center dash console breaking the heater control knob. I was able to get a replacement center dash console cheap off of ebay, but it was badly faded by UV exposure. I combined the working pieces from the original and the one off ebay to make a functional and complete center console that didn't look too bad.

Next I addressed the radio. With some work, I managed to get the stock radio to come alive and everything worked fine until I tried to turn the volume down. Movement of the knob in either direction would only increase the volume. While trying to trouble shoot it, it got so loud that our weird neighbors came over and asked if "I could stop blasting my rock and roll music!" I apologized and replied that the loud music wasn't being blasted for pleasure, the radio was broken and it was stuck that loud. "Where did you get that car anyway!?"; she asked with curious disdain, to which I replied; "It was stolen". I could tell she wasn't sure if I meant that I stole it or bought it as theft recovery, but before I could explain she was headed back across the street. Her rhythm was perfect as she stormed off, slammed her door, locked the dead bolt, and cracked the blinds to stare at me from the safety of her house. I'm used to it. Those neighbors have be fascinated with me and the crazy goings-ons in my garage ever since I moved in. I will often be working in the garage and suddenly feel like I'm being watched only look up to see a slit in their blinds slam shut. I laughed and decided an aftermarket stereo was in order which other than taking a few hours to make a custom wiring harness went in without a hitch.





The Honda is awesome! It has turned out to be a great replacement to Jo's ailing Saturn. We got it registered last week and have both been driving it since. On days that I work I drive it while Jo uses my truck, It's a win-win situation. Jo can haul the dogs manageably in my truck on her short commute to work. My 30 mile commute is done in environmentally friendlier vehicle reducing my carbon foot print and saving gas money. So far I've been getting 33mpg, but I'm going to replace and clean the intake and oxygen sensors to try to up that to over 35mpg.

Second Ride 2008

I got another ride in today in the 60 degree sunshine. Rode a loop east of Boulder on the flats with Ramin. 30 Miles in 1:20, we took it super easy. My legs are a little sore, but my arss is killing me. It'll be a painful couple weeks re-conditioning my "sit-bone" to the bike saddle!

I have might have found a new team for this year. I should know by next week what team and frame I will be racing on.

First Ride 2008

I posted yesterday that if the weather was nice and I' felt up to it I'd get back on the saddle and go for a bike ride today. Well, I'm about 58 days behind in starting my 2008 cycling training schedule, but I finally started today. Sickness, head injuries, and poor weather have all delayed me starting training officially which isn't a big deal because the shape of my 2008 race season is very unclear at the moment. I'm still deciding on what bike to race and if I'm going to race for a team or race solo. I'm semi-committed to Dean, but not really!

It was good to get my heart rate up and turn the cranks a little. I was amazed at how much fitness I've lost, but like always, I expect it will return sooner than I think. Doug and I rode out Highway 36 to Lyons and back. Just under 26 miles in 1:20 for an average speed of 20 mph. It was a good break-in-the-body ride. If the weather is nice and my sickness stays at bay I'm going to do it again tomorrow!

Snowy Mesa, Saturn, and a KC-135

I think I'm slowly winning the battle against my sickness. It's hanging on, but I'm getting stronger by the day. I'm finally able to work, which is healthy for the mind and wallet. It's a fine line between working which, runs me down and getting enough rest on my time off to avoid getting sick again. I've been disciplined so far and stayed off the bike and tried to rest. If the weather is warm and I get good sleep tonight I might go for a light ride tomorrow. Here are a few sights I encountered in my travels last week.

Snowy Mesa. I love the contrast of snow and desert.



Mouth of the Grand Canyon



Glen Canyon Dam



Saturn -See the rings. Okay, even at 38,000 feet you can't see the rings - it's lens shake.



Air Force KC-135 aerial tanker going the opposite direction.

Mountain Lion Staring Contest

Doug sent me this recently and I thought it was blog worthy. I've had one known and I'm sure dozens of unknown mountain lion encounters, but they were nothing like this excerpt from Craig Childs latest book, The Animal Dialogues: Uncommon Encounters in the Wild. According to Craig, Mountain Lions are now the number 1 North American human predator.

"I am one day by foot from the New Mexico border into Arizona’s remote Blue Range. A mountain lion is at the water hole. It is a male, well over 100 pounds, lapping water from the edge. It does not know that I am here. I come on it from behind, staring a beeline down its long tail, which is laid flat against the ground. An early-morning breeze moves in my direction, taking my scent behind. I let down a 60-pound pack without making a sound. I focus binoculars to get a good look.The mountain lion has been in battle. A long, old scar follows its right side. The males are territory defenders. They will fight over land and come out with ragged ears and torn skin. It looks healthy, though—a strong, agile lion, hunched to the water so that its shoulder blades form shields around its back. When it stands, it makes a careful visual sweep. I am blending into my background, and its eyes swing by mine, not lingering on me at all. It is keyed to motion and scent, and nothing registers. I look like a rock, a stump, something simple and expected. Even so, a shiver pounces down my back.In America’s suburbs and parks, mountain lions can be aggressive around people. Attacks are up. In fact, it is the mountain lion that has become most likely to make a meal of a human in North America. Close encounters in the deep wilderness are a different category. Concerning humans, lions out here avidly and skillfully avoid them. This is their territory, and I feel safe enough. I am dealing with precepts I think I understand.The lion at the water hole eventually walks away, into a mesh of junipers that leads into the ponderosa forests and the high desert beyond. I wait for several minutes, then walk to the water to get a good identification, to take measurements and write it all down. The wind has shifted a few times, distributing my scent all over. But if I know the mountain lion, it is half a mile away by now, getting well out of my range.At the water are many tracks in the mud, like sentences overlapping. I move to get a close look. Before I am on the ground, I scan the perimeter. At first I see nothing.Then it is there, behind me. It has circled to my back. Eyes are in the shadows of a couple of low junipers, 30 feet away.I move slowly, deliberately. The lion is probably startled by me. It may be hiding, like a rabbit that is nearly stepped on before it leaps away. But its eyes are not frozen like a hiding rabbit’s, and its body is not bunched, ready for a line drive in the opposite direction. I am being observed.I watch the lion, taking advantage of my proximity to study its features. I am expecting it to bolt any second, to dive into the woods and vanish. Remember this, I think. You will never be this close again.Instead of running, it stands. Without a pause for thought, it moves out from under the shadows so that both of us are in the same sunlight. We make clear, rigid eye contact. It begins walking straight toward me.My heartbeat lodges into my throat. My adrenaline dumps. All of it. No dilemma in the lion’s eyes; it stares me down as if I am prey backed against a water hole. Even with a slow, lucid gait, it is quickly in my world. It looks up at me from under its brow so that its head is down and its eyes are shelved by a shadow. A stalking stare. The distance is closed in seconds.The cat is going to attack me. I pull a knife off my right hip. It has a 5-inch blade. One claw against eight claws; hesitation against instinct. The advantage is not mine.Mountain lions are known to take down animals six, seven, and eight times their size. Their method: attack from behind, clamp onto the spine at the base of the prey’s skull, snap the spine. The top few vertebrae are the target, housing respiratory and motor skills that cease instantly when the cord is cut.Cats have attacked people who have been crouched, or small, or running the other way. Even in zoos they sometimes charge at the cage when children come by. Parents are often asked to hold their children close as they pass cages, to break up the image of fast little kids making random movements. Mountain lions have stalked people for miles. One woman survived an attack and escaped by foot on a road. The lion shortcut the road several miles farther and killed her from behind.Bone is rarely ever broken. Rather, the teeth slide between vertebrae and open the spine surgically. Cat teeth are heavily laden with nerves so that the animal can actually feel its way around the spine and find the area for incision.The mountain lion keeps walking straight at me. A powerful voice in me says, Run! Find shelter! The voice wants the mountain lion magically gone, it wants me to flee to my pack and bunch into a tiny ball. The lion is pushing my button, scrambling the innards of my instinct. Never have I felt fight or flight like this. My only choice, the message going to the thick of the muscle in my legs, is to run. I’ve got to get out of here before it’s too late.What I do, instead, is not move. My eyes lock onto the mountain lion. I hold firm to my ground and do not even intimate that I will back off. If I run, it is certain. I will have a mountain lion all over me. If I give it my back, I will only briefly feel its weight on me against the ground. The canine teeth will open my vertebrae without breaking a single bone.Some of the larger animals push their faces toward an attacking lion. It can’t get anything at the face. It has got to have a clear shot at the neck, from behind or the sides. It tries to intimidate and push the panic button with this kind of doubtless approach so the prey will turn. When the prey runs, the kill is sealed.The mountain lion begins to move to my left, and I turn, keeping my face on it, my knife at my right side. It paces to my right, trying to get around on my other side, to get behind me. I turn right, staring at it.Earlier I would have raised my arms and barked at it, but the lion had come too fast. Now any motion could snap the space we have. My stare is about the only defense I have. People working alone in the mangrove jungles at the mouth of the Ganges River in India sometimes wear the mask of a face on the back of their head. John Seidensticker, who studied the social organization of mountain lions, suggests that humans began to stand upright in order to more vividly show their faces to aggressive cats and to appear less like four-legged prey.Most of my body has stopped. All that is left are my eyes, my right hand with the knife, and my ability to turn. The lion comes left again. When I rotate, it stops walking. It has got me in a stationary, tight stare from 10 feet. Its nose is moist and pale. Eyes made of gray and green. And that is where I see all of the energy, bound up and ready to flush into the body for one quick jump.If it jumps, the knife goes into the rib cage. All my energy will be in the thrust. The lion may reconsider after that. But what shape will I be in after the single blow its entire body is built to deliver? Fifty million years of evolution to make an animal designed to kill on the first move. It could be that I will get in a good knife jab, but what will its jaws do around my face and throat? What will its claws do? And mountain lions are known to come back. They do stalk. Will I be holding my skin together with hands and bandanas when it finds me again?It is looking for the approach. It looks one way, just a couple of inches to one of my sides, and then it looks to the other side. I won’t give it leeway, moving my head to keep its eyes on mine. There have been cases in which a lion cleared 20 feet in about a second when eye contact was broken.It steps to my right, coming clear around, and I synchronize myself with it. It is not focused on my knife, my body, or even my eyes. It is moving intently at some point through me, inside of me, perhaps the single point where life itself is seated. It has happened so often that a mountain lion has launched straight at a hunter or a field biologist who has a sidearm leveled at its head. The mountain lion does not stop and is shot point-blank, dead. Why is that? A coyote or a bear will know when a person has a gun, and will often behave much differently. But the mountain lion is a creature with too great a nature to see a gun or a knife. It is so focused that the rest of the world goes silent.The distance between us increases slightly. The lion walks toward the water hole. Until now I haven’t had the room to take a good posture without triggering an attack. It is customary to throw up your arms and make noise when encountering an aggressive animal at a fair distance. Or to put your hands in your pockets and flare out your coat, making yourself look 100 pounds heavier. It is an old bluff trick. Usually works. Now that it is 15 feet away, I lift my hands in the air. All the way so that my knife is an arm’s length over my head, looking like something too unusual and unknown for a mountain lion to bother with.It doesn’t work. The mountain lion swings back and comes straight at me again. My arms drop. Fast. Right to my sides. Ice comes down my back. The lion stops there, close again. I have never been watched like this.It begins a long, winding route, still trying to come from behind. It covers a great deal of space, going back and forth. There is a seamless continuum from the surrounding world, through the lion’s eyes, into its heart, and back to the world. I am somewhere in there, holding steady like a rock planted beside the water hole. It watches me closely as it leaves. It walks into the forest and I no longer see it.I stand for a few minutes, staring at the forest.I never saw the lion again. For the next week of hiking, though, I could see it all around me. I slept half awake. When I came to water, I gathered it quickly and retreated. I kept my eyes trained into the shadows, waiting, seeing a mountain lion wherever I looked."

Hiking the Appalachian Trail in 1996

Sickness update: I'm getting better slowly. My sinus infection is holding on with a vengeance, but the antibiotics and steroids are helping. I'm also supplementing with "Kick-ass Immune Booster" and lots of airborne. The hard part for me is to be disciplined and take it easy, not repeating the pattern of running myself down now once I feel a little better and then getting sick again. The Ear, Nose, and Throat Doctor offered to nick holes in my ear drums, saying that the small holes would allow my ears to clear, but I'm going to hold off on that for know. Just the though gives me goose bumps.

Hiking the Appalachian Trail in 1996

In addition to hours trying to tune the previously mentioned RC Helicopter I've also kept my "sick-self" busy by scanning old pictures. I came across these from a backpacking trip I put together on the Appalachian Trail (AT) when I was 19 in April of 1996.

At the time I had backpacked before, but never far or with the right equipment. On previous trips, I used a wicker pack-basket my Dad lent me from the 1920's, which needless to say, didn't get me very far. By this trip I had a proper pack, boots, food containment, tent, and sleeping bag. I'd spent most of the winter doing solo trips to local camp spots on the AT, but never went very far. For this trip Adam, Mike, Chris, and I made up the crew. The goal would be to hike all 40 miles of the AT through the state of Maryland. 40 miles is a walk in the park for me now as a seasoned (although injured) endurance athlete, but back then I was an long haired, out of shape smoker who was still just beginning to find his rugged-individualist side. Everyone else was about the same fitness and experience level.

Mistake Number 1: Excessive water. Even though I had a water filtration system I was bent on making sure everyone carried enough water for the entire duration of the trip. It was early April and the temperature hovered around freezing the entire time. Why I thought we needed gallons of water in addition to my water filter along the route through the lush, far-from-arid climate of the Maryland woods is a hilarious mystery to me now. It did mean starting out on our 5 day trip with 80lb packs, already a handicap for fitness challenged hikers.

Mistake Number 2: Poor planning. We stared in Harper's Ferry, VW and planned to hike the AT north to the Pennsylvania state line. To get into Maryland the trail went across a railroad bridge spanning the Potomac River. We didn't find out that this bridge was closed due to flooding until we got the giant gate across the trail at the bridge entry. That meant an additional 8 mile backtrack and detour along a busy, shoulderless, two lane highway through Virginia. To get across the river we had to squeeze our bulging packs along the shoulder of two narrow road bridges. This was probably the most hazardous part of the trip.

Mistake Number 3: Quiting smoking. Adam and I decided to quit smoking the day before we left. Mike didn't smoke, but Chris did and had brought a carton of cigarettes. Adam and I lasted about 24 hours before it got ugly and we gave in. At first Chris wasn't keen on sharing his cigarettes which made for a few tense hours staring at each other across the fire! Eventually on the 4th day, the trail crossed a road and Mike and I spent all morning hiking down to the nearest town so I could buy cigarettes and he could buy junk food. It was a pathetic addiction that was hell to quit!

After spending most of day one trudging along side the highway and narrow bridges for hours we finally got to the AT. It climbed from the river bank up a steep grade out of the Potomac River Valley onto the South Mountain Range. We were so exhausted at the end of the climb that we gave up on trying to make it to the first campsite. We pitched our tents on the side of the trail as it got dark, it started to snow.

Alex, Chris, and Adam on the Road Bridge

Potomac River Valley

Alex and Chris Looking Down at the River

Adam Peeking out of the Tent at the End of Day 1

The next day we hiked mostly in snow to the next campsite where we met an old man. He was an experienced through-hiker who had an odd trail name which, for the life of me, I just can't remember. Something like Rabbit, or Map Man... He gave us some tips and told us about a 5 star restaurant up further up the trail that had a special room in the back just for hikers. We camped for the night and feasted when we discovered a trove of junk food Mike had hidden in his pack. Twizzlers, Star Crunches, and Twinkies, Yum! It was a high fructose corn syrup delight that made the cold and snow a little easier to deal with. I'll just say, at 19 my diet wasn't quite as healthy as it is today!

Hiking Day 2

Chris, Old Man ????, Alex

Day 3 was a mission to get the 5 Star Restaurant, I think it was called The Old South Mountain Inn. The 80lb packs, cigarettes, and previous night's twizzlers and star crunches took a heavy toll on our progress. It was cold and snowy, as we entered the woods outside of Middletown, Maryland. Even though it wasn't filmed there, Middletown was supposed to be the location of the movie The Blair Witch Project. The gloomy day did give the woods an erry feeling. We made it to the Old South Mountain Inn just in time to get the last table of the night. You could see our collective stench overcome the other patrons as we were escorted to the back room. Nothing compliments junk food, cigarettes, and hiking like a heavy dinner of steak and potatoes. Ugh... The tent was a symphony of methane and sulfur smells that night.

Adam, Alex, Chris in the "Blair Witch Woods"

The Old South Mountain Inn

Morning of Day 4

I spent the first half of day 4 hiking down the highway with Mike to guy more cigarettes and junk food. Adam and I had ravaged Chris's carton and the situation was going to get critical if I didn't re-stock the supply. Three smokers alone in the woods without cigarettes would not have been a good thing for anyone. We probably would have killed Mike first! By the time I made it back up the mountain the morning was shot. Everyone was loosing their motivation which wasn't helped by a severe snow storm forecasted to move in the next evening. We had hiked a gaping 30 miles, although the cigarette detour added about 8 for Mike and me. We decided to finish the trip by hiking to and camping at the most popular spot on the AT in Maryland, Annapolis Rocks.

Losing Motivation

Annapolis Rocks and Girls

We got there just in time for sunset and were greeted with the presence of females, Yes! They were out for a day hike. I don't remember their names, but I do remember the feeling of mutual adolescent fear and joy that overcame me whenever I saw an attractive girl at the age of 19. I was still struggling to learn how to talk to girls as an adult and outside of the social structures of high school and junior college. I don't think I was very successful, but at least the sunset was nice! We spent the night reminiscing about our 4 days on the AT. Although we had failed our mission of hiking the state of Maryland on the AT, we did relish in the accomplishment of making it 30 miles. We spent that night in the Annapolis Rocks trail Shelter and got picked up by my Mom the next morning.

Sunset

Morning Day 5, Annapolis Rocks AT Shelter

I eventually did conquer all of Maryland's 40 miles and once I quit smoking was able to pull off a couple long-haul solo backpacking trips. I think my longest was just over 180 miles before I ran out of time off of work. Over the years, my fitness increased and I learned many basic outdoor skills which would later benefit me in Adventure Racing. In my last Adventure Race (before the knee injury) we managed to cover 30 miles in just over 13 hours as opposed to the 120 hours it took us back in 1996!