ADK Hike for Hope — Reckless son travels

Wilderness

The “wilderness” I have called cancer, now more than ever I feel the beast at the door or at least in very close proximity.
Since my last injection of chemo and new 3 month round of pills I relaxed once to give myself a break… to just chill and that of course I found was a mistake. Letting ones guard down even momentarily makes you vulnerable here in this wilderness. Yes I thought, OK just 3 more months of this bullshit, I’m starting to see the light. In the world of cancer there is no end to being vigilant. One must always be on guard. Of course this at times becomes daunting, exhausting and down right depressing. For me having experienced doing a 90 mile marathon across the Adirondack Mountains by canoe and foot I understand the parallels. You have to keep the focus on the long range.The only difference is with cancer the long range is survival, staying alive as long as possible and avoid the inevitable suffering at the finish line.
That is why the hike I’ll be embarking on is so symbolic to me. A short term stamp on my determination to finish with dignity in place. I feel I’ve been handed this baton and carry it’s weight not only for myself but for so many others that the odds seem stacked against. I have said in the past that “ odds “ are for losers and I hope to lift that veil off and toss it in the garbage heap where it belongs.
It’s weird joining Facebook, I never thought I would, but I wanted to use social media to let people know about ADK HIKE FOR HOPE. It’s weird because , well I’m the odd man out. I discuss cancer and what it’s like, not the kind of fun stuff people are constantly chatting about . I mean how many really want to hear about someone being inflicted with a serious and deadly illness ? Not a rude awakening, for me it actually reminds me of grade school where I became acutely aware I was different. The odd thing is everyone knows someone with cancer. So I’m the voice in that wilderness of the happy go lucky, hopefully a voice for the ones they know with cancer.

Well I made a grand attempt at a light weight pack but still came out with 40 pounds total, 5 pounds over what I wanted. Here’s my gear.

24 Hours to the “Ruck”

In the military they call going out with full gear “ rucking “. My load I guess is similar both physically and mentally. Somehow all this weight seems worth it, cathartic if you will. Cancer works that way, and one must embrace it entirely. I’ve always felt life is temporary, and I wonder now if this will be my last journey, so I must treat it as such. No use living in a cocoon and wander aimlessly, in this life I live, for now. Perhaps I will learn something from this gift. So tomorrow we embark on this journey named “ Hike for Hope “ and I am grateful for the opportunity to bring awareness to other cancer patients that exercise does help in many ways, especially curbing the awful side effects of Radiation and Chemo. I’m more than happy to be involved with Dr. Paul Nguyen and help in the funding of his research on this. Basically if I show anything from all this, is that as my Dad would constantly say, “ Time waits for no one “, and how true that is. I hope to do an entry tomorrow and whenever I have cell service, but I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say, so stay tuned.

The Edge of the Blade

As I lay in the silence of night while all others float in their slumber,
Like an apostle on the shiny edge of the blade….

I often now awake with only 3 maybe 4 hours of sleep, feeling like I reached my quota of rest, yet knowing this could not be true. Thoughts sweep me like a broom does a floor, and I know I am not the same. The unexplainable frantically at times demanding to be recognized. The abstract woefully declaring it is all so simple. The fact still remains , that I have cancer and it’s not so simple. The unencumbered praise that at times is bestowed upon me like a blanket seems heavy. Oh don’t get me wrong, I enjoy warmth like so many and maybe that is why I write. Writing is like catching stars.
Today I embark on my journey into the wild to try and capture those stars, wade in the waters and cleanse the spirit that has seen too much.

The first annual ADK Hike for Hope has begun!

Hey friends - I will be filling in for Danny while he is hiking for the next 2 weeks or so.

My husband is a lovable but impatient type, which often results in getting tons of things done (as opposed to a chronic procrastinator like me) and why should it be different this time? He was itching to go, having prepped both spiritually and physically for weeks, no, months. Packing and repacking, considering and buying food and equipment, checking weather forecast, looking at maps - and then suddenly a quick decision to leave a week early. Why not? The next week looks perfect, weather sunny, not too hot or buggy. It it a perfect time to go hiking in the Adirondacks.

So this morning at 8.04 the team (Danny and his hiking buddy Dave Tart) started on a brilliant morning at the trailhead on Godfrey Road in Upper Benson, the first annual ADK Hike for Hope begun! I am so proud of Danny and his tenacity, and I will join him on the second annual Hike for Hope in 2017.

It will be just me and Lena and the bears for the next ten days or so (and a few visiting friends of course… :)). XXOO Love Kristina

The Forest

Leaving the fortress of solitude was not easy, explaining it is even harder. We entered the forest outside of Northville on a sunny morning 10 days ago, our packs overladen, a burden that would be lesson number one. I packed and repacked maybe 10 times cutting the weight down each time and finally down to 40 pounds, still 10 too much. A common mistake by even the most experienced long range trekker is to over pack. My companion’s pack was much heavier than mine. Dave is what I call a “ True Person “, kind, empathetic and spiritual . At 75 he’s in great shape but as a child of the 1940′s he contracted Polio and was unsure how this would effect his ability. In the end it took it’s toll and Dave couldn’t continue after day 3. That said, Dave was my pilot . In maritime terms, a pilot guides the ship out of port before the captain takes over, and Dave was the perfect Pilot. We covered 26 miles together of tough going but always with high spirits and determination. It always takes time to get in the rhythm , I learned this long ago working 16 hour days as a mover in NYC, loading trucks and ships in the port of Elizabeth N.J., and doing the Adirondack 90 mile marathon. It takes a bit of time to get in the “zone”. The third day I was solo and had cut my pack weight down to 33 pounds and was recharged. Below are images of our first 3 days. I finished this trip in 8.

Miles Within

As I started my solo trek into the wild, I pondered some of the statements that were posed to me before leaving.

Won’t you be afraid ?

Enjoy the beautiful nature and scenery….etc.

First, When you have the “Big Casino“ and all the possibilities it has to offer, well fear no longer has any weight.

I felt no fear the entire time. I was embraced by all the positive energy that nature has to offer. As I lay in my insomnia, quiet with the stars, peaceful with the soft late summer night breeze, strangely it was the best rest I’ve had in a long time . When I was greeted by the coyote howls that surrounded my bedding, I felt nothing but being welcomed into a new day. There was no expectation of being alarmed by the unknown or… a curious bear. No , I was at natures peace, in full alliance with the powers that be.

Enjoying the beautiful scenery was another thing altogether. When you’re in the backcountry, miles from nowhere, where every step is crucial, you’re not looking around, you’re looking down at each step. Mistakes are not taken kindly in the wild. This does not foreclose any enjoyment of the natural surroundings however. Your natural experience happens in reverse, if you allow it. Instead of that brief visual that one has looking, it now becomes much deeper.

The scenery, the spirit of nature begins to permeate you and you truly become one with it as opposed to just seeing it.

When I was a boy at my Dad’s camp, I was taken under the wing of a man named Hal Deitzle. He was part Mohawk and Mohegan and taught Indian Lore to the campers. I was fortunate enough to be around him before and after the camp season. He taught me that precept , that nature is much more than the visual, it was spiritual. I thank him each day for that.

The rugged trail seemed to always lead to beauty

Aint No Place For The Weary Kind

Leaving Cedar River following the trail to West Canada Lakes, the haunt of French Louie has always been a trail of reflection for me. The last time I was in that region was over 30 years ago with my daughter Prairie Weills, her close friend Bija and my friend Crystal. We had hiked in from the Moose River Plains, a full day hike. I thought about this a lot this time.The only through hikers I had met on this trip were all females traveling solo. Even though it was a holiday week the NPT was virtually empty. The women I met were traveling an average of 18 miles a day and I believe they inspired me to do the same. Hiking solo even for those not fond of metaphors can not avoid all the symbolism.

I’ll try and stay away from that and let some images do the talking.

Lake Durant

Reaching Lake Durant on the Friday of Labor Day weekend was strangely refreshing. After being in the wilds for 5 days and not seeing more than 2 people I reached this public campground late Friday afternoon after covering 20 miles that day. It was completely full, hundreds of car campers, RV’s,and pickups, exploding with happy enthusiastic people of all ages cramming in their 3 day outdoor experience. I haven’t seen so many happy people in one place in a very long time. A classic American working class thing to do. Since no official spots were available, the DEC guy in charge took pity on me and let me set my tent up on a grassy patch where kids were playing frizz bee , other wise known as a leach field. Not as bad as it sounds but weird nonetheless . It was across from the boat launch which was a beautiful view. That night was a pleasant night of zero sleep. It was filled with the smell of grilling and camp fires, the sound of chopping wood, laughter, passionate conversations between prospective lovers and the sounds of cars and trucks piercing the night. All this being comforting. It was a nice side of America.

Now being in the “zone”, trekking upwards to 20 miles a day I felt rejuvenated after 2 months of daily radiation and chemo. My side effects are still little to none. I have felt the importance of discussing what side effects I have because this ride isn’t all free but so much is in plain site. Exercise and diet works, and of course the spirit of nature.

Resting at City Hall

As I approached the suspension bridge going over the Cold River, I had just trekked 14 miles and it was still mid day and hot. I was soaked from the work out and needed water and all it had to offer. So after replenishing my drinking supply I dove in to this amazing pool of the cleanest water imaginable . I have been to this area many times and it’s rewards keep coming.

That night I set my tent up a few yards from where the Mayor of Cold River lived, Noah Rondeau. A sweet spot up on a ridge overlooking the river.

Sign reads : Noah Rondeau The Mayor of Cold River 1912- 1969