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Walking for Mono Lake

Kelly Ogle has lived in Tuolumne County, California for 36 years. In 2005 the adventure bug bit him, and off he went to see more of the country. Now Kelly is not your ordinary late-blooming explorer. No luxury excursions down the Grand Canyon, or guided fly-fishing trips in Wyoming. Kelly’s idea of an adventure was to hike the entire Appalachian Trail—all 2,174.9 miles. On top of taking on this daunting task, he would also be doing it for charity, with people donating money to be paid by the total mileage he completed. Kelly picked three of his favorites organizations to donate pledged monies to, and fortunately for Mono Lake, the Mono Lake Committee was one of them. In fact, Mono Lake is Kelly’s favorite place on earth! His two other charities were the Tuolumne General Hospital Foundation and Sierra HOPE (formerly Sierra Health Resources).

The following is an account in Kelly’s own words of some of his adventures during the hike as he braved the late spring snowstorms, battled through swarms of biting bugs, and hoofed it over every imaginable kind of rock, root, gully and mudpit. Keep in mind that 2005 was one of the worst hurricane seasons on record, and most of those storms made it to the eastern coast, adversely impacting his hiking experience.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

About 450 miles done so far, feeling good and getting stronger every day. I have decided the trail is just a trail—not too many views (it’s always foggy and raining when I get to a summit, the weather has been an irritant, and Virginia has a lot of trees)—so for me the trip is currently about the people—have met some truly wonderful and amazing folks both on and off the trail: an 83 year old gentleman who wanted to walk this trail all his life and is finally doing it!, and a family of five (kids aged 7, 9, and 11) whose father lost his job and decided the trail would be a fine way to reconnect with his family until things got better! And a schizophrenic who doesn’t do so well at home but clears mentally when he’s walking! And a hotel clerk who saw the sad look on my face when I heard there was no laundry available—so she took my 10 day-old clothes (including the toxic socks!) home on her lunch break to wash them for me! (I bought her flowers!). There are also people who do wonderful things anonymously, it’s called “trail magic”, where they leave bottles of water at dry road crossings, or coolers full of sodas at hidden little places, or pick up dirty/smelly hitch-hikers when they really need a ride into town. And seeing hikers look out for each other, sharing food and money and information and ideas and gear and whatever it takes to keep other hikers going.

There is magic on this trail, even if you can’t see it from a vista. Heading into Tennessee soon, bigger mountains, more rhododendrons, and hopefully some good weather.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Update: 740 miles done, 50 pounds lost, and still going strong. Weather has improved, but I made it into Hot Springs, NC at 12:00 yesterday, sat down at the pub for a Guinness, and it started dumping at 12:01! Health is good, feet are fine, and the people I’m meeting are amazing! Currently staying in a 200 year-old B&B of the “George Washington slept here” variety.

Thursday, July 7, 2005

The trip is becoming arduous because of the weather. Had to stall at a little resort in southern North Carolina for 6 days because of storms, then hit the trail for 2 days before this hurricane or tropical storm or whatever it is hit. So, Plan B. With only 97 miles left to go before the southern terminus, I am now flipping up to Maine to start that leg of the walk, and will come back here to finish Georgia in the Fall. Absolutely appalling weather at the moment—flooding , trees blowing down everywhere, mud, and lightning. Hoping to head north and see the sun for a while. All in all, I am well, feet are fine, health is good, but keeping a smile on my face is proving to be tough with all this rain. I’m taking a week or two off to visit friends, and go back and catch a 19 mile stretch I missed because of the last hurricane.

September 8, 2005
The Hike from just short of Hell…

Howdy and happy September! I’m hoping all is well, and that the Summer has been good to you. The trail remains a challenge, and bad weather (remnants of Hurricane Katrina) slammed into the White Mountains of New Hampshire just as our intrepid hero was climbing Mt. Washington, which lived up to it’s reputation of having the worst weather in the world. Again, I didn’t see any of the mountain! The Appalachian Mountain Club maintains a series of “huts”, basically giant bunkhouses accommodating up to 90 people that have a waiting list of 4 years—but thru-hikers may be able to do work-for-stay if room is available. The bagpipes I’ve been carrying for over 1,300 miles finally paid off! I was able to do play-for-stay every night through the Whites, and even acted as alarm clock a couple of times. The trail through the Whites is not a trail, it’s just rocks, slippery and slimy in bad weather and poor purchase in 50 mph winds—but it’s better than the trail in Maine! I left the trail for a week from the end of the Whites to visit friends in upstate New York, and even played tourist at Niagara Falls, doing the “Maid of the Mist” boat ride up to the base of the Falls (highly recommended!). Still feeling strong, still losing weight, and heading back to the trail Saturday. My collarbone is all healed (I think I told you that story—stress fracture jumping off rocks of some such in Maine), though it has a new bump that may never go away. New lighter pack is helping with that. Fall is fast approaching here, have seen a few trees with colorful leaves, though won’t catch the full show, I’m afraid. Only 875 miles to go…maybe 2 months if I get my act together! I’m getting a little weary of the whole thing, hiking alone has been a demoralizer, so I’m stalling to let some folks I met in the South catch up with me, and I’ll hike with them for a while, to bolster my spirits—they’re a family from New Zealand, and quite entertaining as trail companions. Missing all my friends, and the West…..peace, Kelly

Retrospect

I can’t thank you enough for your generosity and the encouragement it gave me to keep walking through nonstop rain through some incredibly rugged terrain. As you may not know, I started the hike in the middle of the trail, in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, heading south to Georgia. It took me 10 weeks to do that first leg, and in that time I had 11 days without rain! It was slow going, and I never had a view due to fog, downpours, and lightning storms—we don’t have storms out here like they do back east! There weren’t many moments of great beauty, but I found a wonderful community and culture that surround the trail, and the people were amazing. There’s a phenomena that happens called “Trail Magic” in which people do wonderful random acts of kindness for hikers—it may be as simple as leaving bottled water at dry road crossings, or a cooler full of drinks and candy bars near a road crossing, or occasionally folks would see a bedraggled soggy hiker and invite them into their homes for a shower, a meal, and a bed! Southern hospitality is alive and well!

Although I knew the Appalachian Trail was not a wilderness trail, I wasn’t expecting it to be as noisy as it was…there was the constant drone of jets flying low overhead (many large metropolitan cities lay just east of the trail), and the AT parallels roads along much of it’s route, goes right down the main street of a few towns, and follows Skyline Drive through Shenandoah National Park for 200 miles. That was kind of disappointing. But every so often, something brilliant would happen to make it all OK, like one day in Shenandoah when I stopped at a rest area to have lunch, and was invited by the Baugher family of Elkton, VA to join their family outing. They fed me until I could barely move! Grandma made what were surely the best pickles I’ve ever eaten. And speaking of eating (because that’s what thru-hikers think of constantly), another highlight was getting off the trail into one of the little trail towns to get some real food. But the south held some surprises for me in the food department—macaroni and cheese is considered a vegetable down there! No kidding!

So back to the trail. VA was pretty, and pretty easy—then I got to the rougher terrain of Tennessee and North Carolina—more rugged, higher mountains, bad trail, and still more rain. I’d like to say those states were beautiful, but I never got to see much of it. The trail is always under a canopy of trees, and on the infrequent occasions a mountaintop was free of trees, I was invariably chased over the summit in another tremendous thunderstorm! When I finally made it to Georgia, 30 miles from the southern end of the trail, I got evacuated because of Hurricane Dennis! Mudslides, falling trees, and seven hikers struck by lightning forced the closure of the Trail for a week! So I decided to flip up to Maine at that point to start the northern leg of the trip, and hope for better weather. The northern end of the Trail is Mount Katahdin in central Maine, a 5,600’ massif of severely eroded granite. I climbed Katahdin on yet another gloomy rain-soaked day, and even though the summit was shrouded in fog so thick I was unable to see the rocks I was standing on, it had a mystical feel about it. Because of the weather, I never saw the mountain until I got a view of it 30 miles farther south on the trail. Maine proved to be exquisitely beautiful, but brutal. 281 miles of roots and rocks—nothing resembling a trail, and the most difficult climbs I’ve ever encountered carrying a 40-pound pack. I did have some good weather, though, for which I was very grateful. The absolute high-point of the trip happened in Maine, at a large, beautiful lake with an unpronounceable name—I found a sandy beach, had it all to myself, the clouds parted, a warm breeze was blowing, I swam in the warm water, a pair of loons came over to investigate (they came within a couple feet of me!), and I was able to dry all my things on a gorgeous July afternoon as the sun set—and I realized that in the three months I had been on the trail, that was the first sunset I had seen!

I mentioned that Maine was brutal, didn’t I? Well, because of the horrendous terrain and wearing a heavy pack, and jumping off the boulders that made up the trail, I got a stress fracture on my left clavicle. That forced me off the trail for a month. I got back on the trail in August, and headed in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where Hurricane Katrina struck! I never even saw the White Mountains. Vermont was good to me, fair weather most of the time, good trail, and a few views. Massachusetts should have been where the leaves changed color, something I was looking very forward to seeing—but that’s where the remnants of Hurricane Ruth struck. All the leaves were blown off the trees in 60 mph winds before they changed. Lots of folks were disappointed this year. I don’t want to talk about Connecticut or New York.

Did you see on TV about all the flooding in New Jersey? Guess where I was at that time? Yep, you guessed it! It’s too bad, I thought NJ was kind of pretty. When I got to the northern border of Pennsylvania and the famous Pennsylvania rocks, 300 miles from where it all started, I had lost all heart for the trail. I was tired of walking in the rain, falling down, sleeping wet, being cold, and just not having a good time in general. I called it quits. But I saw and learned that pollution is taking a terrible toll on our environment, I learned that thru-hiking is the wrong way to hike, and I learned that a lot of people back home love me. I’m OK with that. Be well.

Kelly

The Mono Lake Committee will receive $1,332—a wonderful gift from a dedicated Mono Lake advocate.  If you feel inspired by Kelly’s trek, you can make donations in his honor. For more information contact Douglas at or (760) 647-6595.


Mono Lake Committee Page