Gear Here!

Nude. I went with nude. Naturistic in its own right, it was clearly the right choice.

Honestly, who would dress their nails in Candy Apple Red prior to a backpacking trip?

No one.

This was “September, 2019” me as I prepared for my first chunk of time on the trail, prioritizing nail color over the ounces of my sleeping bag.

My oh my, how I've evolved.

I shook down my pack with you in “Das Gear” as I left for the foothills of Georgia, and as my trail legs grew more robust, the contents of my rucksack became more refined.

After only 3 nights on trail, my hip pain was only the icing on the reality cake of the 2,161.8 more miles that laid ahead of me. At mile 31.3, Neels Gap, not only did Katie leave me for Pittsburgh, but so did my:

SaltStick Fastchews
I traded GU Hydration Drink Tablets for Propel Powder Packs. The individual packs weigh less than the dense tablets.
Tea bags. Once water logged, they created unnecessary heavy waste to pack out.
Contact lens solution and contact lens case. I had committed to daily contact lenses and their disposal at the end of each day, there was no use for their storage system.
AT Passport

Once to Hiawassee, GA, mile 69.2, I relinquished my:

Cloth face mask. I began to use my Buff pulled up over my nose and mouth when necessary.
Paper journal. Coming in at a hefty 11.2 ounces, I committed to collecting my thoughts electronically. Not my preference, but neither is digging a cathole. When in Rome.

After crossing the Nantahala River, Deja Vu had a…soft…intervention…with me. “Empty your pack, Dips. Like, right now. You need to drop some weight, that thing is way too heavy. We’re shaking you down.”, she demanded. “But, I need…”, I bargained. “NOW.”, she pointed to the floor of the bunkhouse that we had rented at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), mile 136.7. It was then that she learned of the…tchotchkes. “A ‘lucky’ stone, ‘special’ coins, a STEEL-plated PINOCCHIO pin?!? That thing must weigh 4 ounces, Dips!!”, she was in disbelief. Busted. I was busted. Hands TIED. And promptly to the NOC Outfitter’s Store I went, shipping home my:

Moleskin. The Leukotape that I had been carrying was sufficient for blister care.
(2) 2 ounce “just in case” carabiners.
Hardcopy of the A.T. Guide. Weighing in at 7.8 ounces (that’s nearly a half of a pound!), I downloaded a PDF version which I could reference while offline through my phone.
My beloved tchotchkes! (“But would I make it to Katahdin without my lucky charms?!?”, I ruminated). Superstition did not prevail. Hail common sense!
REI Co-op Microfiber Hand Towel. My bandana would now dual as a towel.
I cut my pot-cleaning sponge in half, and I quartered the (separate) bandana that I used to provide barrier between my ever-rusting fuel canister and cook pot floor.
60ml syringe that I used to back-flush my Sawyer Squeeze Water Filtration System. I would now rely on hiker boxes at hostels for stray ones as I progressed.

Not only did the one-and-only, Pam Norton, pay me an embellished visit to Hot Springs, North Carolina, so did stroll-stopping spasms to my left trapezius. “Need. To. Get. My. Weight. Down.”, I recited. Onto the bed at the Iron Horse Inn went the innards of my Red Cadillac once again, and to the post-office at mile 274.9 went my:

Emergen-C Vitamin C packets, Magnesium supplements, and Multivitamins. Scurvy, I was headed for you.
Sea To Summit Reactor Compact Plus Sleeping Bag Liner (adding 20 degrees of warmth to my sleeping bag), Patagonia R1 Pullover, Smartwool Trekking Heavy Crew Socks, and my SOL Emergency Blanket. I was through the Great Smoky Mountains, and hypothermia was less of a threat.
Ring. My fingers were swelling overnight from the fluid shifts, and wearing my gold band had become uncomfortable.
Carabiner that I used to hang my Sea to Summit Alpha Light Long Spork from the exterior of my pack. Although weighing under an ounce, ounces lead to pounds, and pounds lead to premature fatigue. The spork would now live inside of my food bag.
Anker PowerLine III USB-C to Lightning Cable. I would now rely only on the Anker Powerline III USB-A to Lightning Cable to charge my cell phone instead of toting both.
Sea to Summit Ultra Sil Sleeping Bag Compression Sack. I committed to stuffing my sleeping bag into the bottom of a contractor bag, free of its own stuff sack, which also provided for more available space inside of my pack’s main compartment while assuring it to remain protected from the elements. Another 3.3 ounces saved.

Mile 470.7 introduced us to Damascus, VA, the home of Trail Days, May 14th through 16th, 2021, and also to the promise of Spring. It was time. Time to send the brunt of my “cold gear” back to Katie and seriously, like- for real, lighten my load. Into hibernation went my:

REI Co-op Merino Midweight long sleeved hiking top.
REI Co-op Talusphere Rain Pants, which served more for warmth than for dryness and would only precipitate internal roasting during the summer months.
Merino wool base layers for sleeping, my Patagonia Women's Capilene Air Crew and Women's Smartwool Merino 250 Baselayer Bottoms, and exchanged them for a thrifty silk tank and Thai Fisherman pants. Both lightweight and with gobs of pizazz.
Skida Alpine Fleece-lined, Cold Weather Beanie.
I kept my North Face ETIP Glove Liners and Patagonia Nano Puff Mitts across all seasons, as my hands were never safe from the dropping temperatures at elevation.
I swapped my TOAKS 1100ml Pot with Pan for a TOAKS Titanium 900ml Pot both to save 1.5 ounces and also because I hadn’t yet utilized the pan nor the additional 200ml capacity. Space is waste.
I added, yes, added (sorry, Deja!) a Rawlogy Ultralight Cork Massage Ball (thanks, Inserra!) to roll out the bottoms of my feet at night for plantar fasciitis prevention, they were beginning to cramp up.

By the time I reached Pearisburg, VA, mile 637, Citibank surely must have felt that my life had taken a very ominous turn with my monthly statements grossly reflecting only charges for Mexican restaurants and motels. The days of Sephora and brunch tabs at Acorn were far in the rear view mirror, just as my:

REI Co-op Magma 15 Women’s Sleeping Bag was about to be. I had been convinced to join the “quilt” club and switched to an Enlightened Equipment Revelation, saving me 10 ounces.
It was time to refresh my Injinji Liner Crew Toesocks. After nearly 700 miles in my virgin sets, they were ridden with Leukotape juice; therefore, unable to be properly cleaned. Dirty liners = infected blisters = no bueno.
I added REI Co-op Minimalist GTX Rain Shell Mittens, making my glove system a 3-part one. My Patagonia Nano Puff Mitts kept me warm, but their water-resistance, not water-proofing, was not keeping me dry. Wet mittens = threats of finger frostbite = no bueno.
The Icebreaker Women's Cool-Lite Merino Utility Explore Short Sleeve Crewe T-Shirt went home and was exchanged for a tank top.
My SaltStick Fastchews were returned with Summer’s bloom. Heat = increased perspiration = excessive sodium loss = no bueno. I used the shade of my urine as a guide.

After completing the Virginia Triple Crown, I crawled into Daleville, VA, mile 730.3, at 10:30 at night. The next morning, my:

Crocs went home, and I picked up a pair of Teva Sandals for wear around camp. The gritty pattern along the sole of the Crocs had been aggravating my plantar Pitted Keratolysis.

I found myself in the arms of my parents and also within the walls of a brandy new tent in Waynesboro, PA, mile 1069.6, thanks to Nicky Webber-Plank’s.…ummmm….affinity….for my original NEMO Dragonfly 2. I would now be sleeping in:

The REI Co-op Quarter Dome SL 2 Tent, saving me a handful of ounces but not providing me with water-proofing that compared to the Dragonfly 2. Less ounces = higher cost & oftentimes compromised function. What goes up, must come down.
After fracturing my REI Co-op Flash Carbon Trekking Poles on the descent into Harper’s Ferry, I received my 2nd pair as I crossed into my home state as well. Waynesboro, the land of misfit gear.
And onto my back went all 5.9 ounces of the Arteck Slim Wireless Bluetooth Keyboard (thanks, Bear Legs!). Purchased to ease the management of my website, it conveniently required the same Anker PowerLine Micro USB cable that also served both my Litesmith Nitecore NU25 Triple Output USB Rechargeable Headlamp and Garmin inReach Mini.
Sea to Summit Mosquito Head Net with Insect Shield, which I carried for 734.1 miles and sent back to ‘da Burgh from North Woodstock, NH when I was confident that the mosquitos were no longer a threat.

The keyboard had only made a handful of cameos over the next 502.6 miles, and at mile 1572.2, I sent it packing in Dalton, MA. Also back to my “bin” that lived in the Webber-Plank’s basement went my:

Sunscreen.
Band-aids. If I hadn't used a single one over 11 states, off with their heads!

Crossing in to Hanover, NH, mile 1750.9, brought a right of passage and promise of a successful finish. And also the return of my cold gear (ouch.) It was September 1st, and the weather of the White Mountains was looming. In came my:

REI Co-op Merino Midweight Long Sleeved Hiking Top. In addition, I exchanged my tank for my short-sleeved tee.
REI Co-op Talusphere Rainpants.
Patagonia Women's Capilene Air Crew, my base layer top for sleeping. I withheld the bottoms of the like and committed to hiking in my shorts, keeping my hiking leggings, the lululemon Align High-rise Pant 25", dry and reserved now for sleep only, saving me 7.4 ounces. (Insert me: juggling comfort, function, and safety here.)
Skida Alpine Fleece-lined, Cold Weather Beanie.
Comet
Cupid
Donner
and Blitzen.

I dusted off my hands, my knees…and my soul after traversing the Mahoosucs, arriving in Bethel, ME, mile 1925.9, as midnight approached. Waiting for me at the Main Street post-office was:

My THIRD set of REI Co-op Flash Carbon Trekking Poles after sacrificing my 2nd set while descending North Kinsman.
Marmot Women's EVODry Torreys Rain Jacket, replacing my Frogg Toggs Women’s Ultra-Lite Jacket which had been assaulted by alpine foliage atop Mount Hight.

Monson, ME made “Last Call!!” at mile 2078.6, the gateway to the 100 Mile Wilderness, the most remote section of the Appalachian Trail. To Shaw’s Hiker Hostel, I had sent for pick-up:

A 4th pair of socks and liners. My next stop would be Mount Katahdin, and ultimately Millinocket, ME, which stood a lengthy 9 days away. As did my ability to launder my potentially soiled socks. I hauled this extra weight and space during this stretch, and this stretch only, to keep my feet happy.
“The” Terrible Towel.

Now for some….pillow talk.

I went through four. And that’s a soft four. Pillow numero uno, my Outdoor Vitals Ultralight Stretch Pillow, walked with me from the arches of Amicalola Falls to Front Royal, VA when it failed to hold its air despite a non-faulty valve. Outdoor Vitals was excellent in their product backing and customer service and shipped my replacement, pillow #2, free of charge to Front Royal, mile 972.1. However, again, my Outdoor Vitals pillow failed to hold its form, prompting my switch to the Sea to Summit Aeros Ultralight Pillow, my 3rd, in Port Clinton, PA at mile 1219.1. Which….wait for it….waaaait for it….also turned into a prune, leaving my neck wooden and my torso that of the Tin Man each morning. Public service announcement- inflatable camping pillows do not fall under the “Hotel Collection” umbrella. I tossed my Sea to Summit in the trash in Andover, ME at Pine Ellis Hostel, mile 1946.3, and went without. I would save weight and use the stuff sack that housed my hiking clothing, overnight, as a pillow for the next 132.3 miles. Resourceful, I was.

Ouch.

Desperate in Monson, at mile 2078.6, I stuffed a mail-dropped Red Fleece Balaclava (gracias, Steve!) into my pack. After being rolled into a sphere, it doubled as my 4th, and final “pillow”.

“Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.”

— Marilyn Monroe

Altra Lone Peak 5 was their name, and blister prevention was the game. Weighing 9.2 ounces with a Zero-drop and a laser cut drainage system, the Lone Peaks gold-medaled. With a highly thru-hiker friendly customer care team, I chose Altra and Fleet Feet Pittsburgh again and again.

And again.

Pair #1, 502.1 miles, Amicalola Falls, GA to Massie Gap, VA.
Pair #2, 567.5 miles, Massie Gap, VA to Pen Mar Park, MD.
Pair #3, 379.7 miles, Pen Mar Park, MD to Pawling, NY.
Pair #4, 354.4 miles, Pawling, NY to North Woodstock, NH.
Pair #5, 389.4 miles, North Woodstock, NH to Mount Katahdin, ME.

The Navy Seals got it right.

“Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.”

Yes.

It was on the trail, and it continues to be as I pilot my next chapter.

Patience.

Intuition.

Calculation.

Understanding.

Pause.

Faith.

Zeal.

Choice.

Emancipation.

More happiness. Less Strain.

I asked the universe 1st for opportunity, and next, for direction.

In casual banter over fan mail with Steve Webber-Plank, most often signed, “DSWP” (not to be confused with “DWP”, Donald Webber-Plank, Steve’s son and the husband of “Fuel”), I was asked the million dollar question.

“What next?”.

My return to medicine felt overwhelming, “I want to develop my writing. Integrate public speaking. Podcasting.” I want to finish the books that I start. Perhaps a piano lesson. The steward of lattes or the talker of TED. I had control over my time on the trail, and I want more of the same at home. Emancipation. “But where to begin? Feels like an impossible mountain to climb….no pun intended”, I continued.

DSWP advised, “Dips. Don’t rush into things, and don’t burn any bridges. Keep your credentials up to date. A change of pace may be good in your life. Part-time? Teaching? Doctors without borders? There’s a big world out there, how much of it have you really seen? I’ve traveled since I was 14. Been a lot of places, rode a lot of miles.” He continued, “One thing is for sure besides death and taxes, it’s money. Don’t discount its value. The more you have, the sooner you can retire, comfortably. In the meantime, be creative. Get up every single day. One step at a time. You know that drill.”

Okay, so the direction may have preceded the opportunity.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

It was August 4th. I was hiking through New York, just shy of mile 1400. I was hustling, alternating glances between the bedrock that lay beneath me and the Timex on my wrist, when a day hiker passed by and said, “Enjoy your walk.”

“Enjoy my walk.”, I repeated silently.

The trail is a metaphor to life.

And I am going to enjoy my walk.

Happy belated 40th, Fuel! Perhaps my summit on your birthday makes up for my absence?! Here, Andrew and Katie Webber-Plank.

Meet Aaron and Kim Wysocki. Kim, a colleague who took her own leap of faith in 2019 when she accepted a position in Michigan to manage an anesthesia team of her own, was serendipitously passing through Pittsburgh upon my return. We shared lunch at Southern Tier Brewing, catching up with plenty of laughter and Yooper dialect!

Dad. Dad, Dad, Dad…. My sincere congratulations on successfully removing the *entire* Giant Eagle Pumpkin Roll label in ONE. FELL. SWOOP. Finally.
Couch surfing until I land in my new space has *gifted* me with a uniquely beautiful and comedic chunk of time with my parents. Mornings filled with coffee and carrying microwaves from 1994 out to the curb in my pajamas at 5:30am. An unforeseen offering of my decision to say “yes” to the hike.
“Greenlight”, as Matthew McConaughey would say.

My frontrunner. Hard boiled egg, Grey Poupon, Everything but the Bagel Seasoning, and fresh dill.

A reunion with *the* Pam Norton over hot apple cider at their farm, The Country House, in Portersville, PA. Pam and Tom gainfully sold their home this year, downsized their decades of belongings into storage, and are living simply in an Airbnb until they return to New Smyrna Beach, Florida for the winter months.
Choice. *Emancipation.*

Kevin and Clover are only two of the many animals that the Nortons eagerly foster. Horses, chickens, and goats- oh my!!

Meet Nick Jordan and Blake Norton. Nick is the father of my dear friend Suellen Gallegos, and Blake, Pam and Tom’s son who was in visiting from his home in Germany. Suellen and Nick joined us for a farm filled brunch while we watched the Steelers first tie of the season, in all of The National Football League, against the Detroit Lions.

The first snow of the season, November 14, 2021.

Picturesque oat milk latte with Zuckerbraun at Arriviste Coffee Bar, in Shadyside.

Meet Diane “Lionel” Novosel! Friends, more like sisters, since 7th grade, Lionel and her crew invited me for spaghetti & meatballs, card tricks, and stories.

Meet Lynn, Maureen, and Helen! All mentors in my nurse anesthesia upbringing, Lynn and Maureen are retired and Helen remains one of my current managers. They treated me to antipasto and BYO at Lawrenceville’s Piccolo Forno. My #1 fans, they truly shine with optimism, adventure, and eternal youth.

Meet THE. LARRY. HOLMES., ref: “Me vs. Me” and “Mrs. Holmes”, now Mrs. Recktenwald. My kindergarten classmate and homeroom Mom turned champions of my hike after not being in touch for over 20 years, we pacted to toast when I returned. And in our old stomping grounds, we certainly did, along with the Barefoots, Benchos, Slezak, Felter, Abel, and Smoller!
“On the hills of All-e-gheny, ‘neath the Western Sky, proudly stands our dear old high school, on the hilltop high….”
The trail continues to bring me closer to those around me.
Call “them” *now.*

Meet my “work Mom”, Kathy Claypoole, whose guardian angel pin I carried on my hike for all 2193.1 miles. Kathy retired in 2020 after an anesthesia practice thick with thoracic surgery, and I continued to learn valuable lessons from her over brunch at The Lot at Edgewater. Kath, are you *still* sitting there waiting for the check?!

A Roots yoga class at One Point One Yoga in Garfield with my Angel! My first in years, developing a deeper practice is on my “Post-AT list”. Yes, I kept such list. Shocker, I know.

An evening with Scout Troops 329 and 9329 of McCandless. I was invited to share my story, the contents of pack, as well as my blunders. Their bright eyes gave me a run for my money with their inquisitions and verbal challenges, impressive! Grateful for the invitation.

Apartment hunting at Trace Brewing in Bloomfield. They serve just as much funk as they do brews and java, a MUST check-out if you haven’t already!

For twenty years I have intended on spending Thanksgiving Eve at Aunt Sandra and Uncle Roy’s, learning to prepare their age-old traditions first hand.
It took a very *long* walk to bring light to the importance of the “now” and not the assumption of “next year”. “Next year” is promised to no one.
We talked of my future plans over the apples, carrots, potatoes and bird before they were sent to bake.
Do “it” *now*.

My father and cousin Emily, who was visiting from Puerto Rico.

Dad and Gram. His mother, our matriarch.

New Year, True You

Boo!