Looks like Ivy's ready for Easter

April 8, 2019 - Monday morning

41 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It finally quit raining during the night. With the temperatures in the 40's and no wind, Sargie and I decided to sleep with the bedroom window wide open. Though it's too early for the peeper frogs to sing their nighttime melody, just the mere thought that it was warm enough for an open window made both of us feel better and we slept well.

I guess I shouldn't get too optimistic. Carl the Weatherman is predicting the possibility of a large snow storm later this week, one that could dump several springtime inches on the UP. 

Oh well, it's not as though we have any choice in the matter.

With Hambone back home and Sargie working, I walked my usual five miles Sunday morning. I've been listening to several podcasts of people over the age of 60, who've successfully hiked the 2,180 mile Appalachian Trail from one end to the other. Their sage advice is quite helpful in my planning of the trek and certainly helps me to mentally and physically prepare for whatever might befall an older person attempting such an adventure.

I've dreamed about this hike for almost forty years and have come to the decision that it should be my seventieth birthday present to myself. That gives me three years to prepare my mind and body for the six month undertaking. Unless I can talk her into coming with me, it will take that long to plan for Sargie to come out and meet me occasionally in one of the many trail towns the AT winds through and around. 

I've thought about finding a hiking partner, at least to begin with, but finding a senior citizen who wants to spend six months of his life walking up and down mountainsides while living in a tent is difficult. Besides, there are enough people who begin the trail each year that I'll fall into a bubble of hikers, those who trek the same speed as I do. 

I've been told one makes instant friendships as everyone's hiking for the same reason, to summit Mt. Katahdin in Maine which signals the end of the trail.

In my younger days, I imagine I'd have been a speedster and completed the hike in four to five months. At age 70, IF I am able, it will probably take the entire six months. Chances of failure are high, but I am optimistic I can beat the odds. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't begin. Less than 50 people over the age of 70 have ever successfully completed the the trail from Georgia to Maine in one year's time. I hope to make it 51. 

So, I have three years in which to plan, to make my body as ready as possible, and most importantly, prepare my mind for the long absence away from Sargie and Pentoga Road. No doubt, I'll be talking about those preparations, as well as others, in the future.

My old friend, Paul Baker, used to say that half the fun of going is getting there. I'm having a ball.

Most of Sunday was spent assembling and ripping apart the front wall of the garden house. I've made mention before that the plans give a person just enough to begin, but leave out many of the finer details.

After my umpteenth mistake, I gave up by late afternoon and came inside. When I get tired, I make mistakes. When I get really tired, I make stupid mistakes. Sunday afternoon was filled with stupidity.

Sargie was home early and we feasted on chicken soup (for the soul?) and spent a quiet evening in front of the television. She closes the Vision Center tonight and I'm planning on finishing that front wall. I'll begin early this morning while my mind and body are fresh. If I wait until afternoon, there's no guarantee of anything other than more mistakes. No doubt, I'll ride with Sargie partway late this morning and walk the miles back home. 

Got to keep that body moving!

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

In the mountains, high above Sitka, Alaska