that girl who rides the horses that dance

"The Appalachian Trail is easy. It's just walking." 

Pretzel, a 2012 Appalachian Trail thru-hiker and employee at Mountain Crossings at Walasi-Yi, was tearing through my gear with abandon while I shivered on the floor of the outfitter and waited for my pizza to finish cooking.

In a way, Pretzel was right. In another way, he was wrong. 

During my shakedown, he told me that my pack was well balanced, and I had to send home or throw out a minimal amount of things - nail clippers, extra stuff sacks, baby wipes (which in hindsight I regretted not keeping). My pack weight was approximately 14 pounds without food or water. I was proud.

I had done months of research, selecting gear and then doing gear swaps and slowly reducing my projected base weight from 25, to 22, to 18, to finally 14 pounds. Winning the Badger Sponsorship helped as well, giving me a huge financial boon and thousands of dollars in gear and merchandise.

What I didn't get through the sponsorship, I bought myself. With a lot of deliberation, I selected my clothes - my camp and hiking outfits - my cooking setup, extra stuff sacks, and so forth. Some choices were harder than others. After consulting experienced thru-hikers and backpackers, I followed their advice and didn't buy a pair of Yaktrax.

In hindsight, I should have. Because the Appalachian Trail became much more than just walking. Coming into this adventure, I knew it would be more than a physical challenge. I knew it would be mental.

At the outfitter in Georgia, I was already more than thirty miles in, loving every moment of it. I had scaled Blood Mountain. I had spent some cold nights.


And after Neels Gap, I would hike through blizzards. I would start my day late due to a downpour. I would spend hours drying out my gear.

After 0.2 miles on the actual Appalachian Trail, after hiking nine miles my first day on the approach trail, I quickly turned that 0.2 miles into thirty. Into a hundred.

Atop Albert Mountain, marking 100 miles on the AT

The climb out of Nantahala Outdoor Center was exhausting. That was my first disappointing day (including the blizzard). But pushing through that, I was able to reach deep inside and find determination to push on.

That hundred turned into two hundred miles. I hiked up Clingmans Dome, the highest peak on the Appalachian Trail, while struggling with nausea, the inability to drink water, painful feet, and an empty stomach during an ice storm and in a heavy fog. I rolled into Newfound Gap to meet my dad for a double zero.

A large margarita on the first day of my double zero!

Once I had sufficiently recovered from my food poisoning, we hit the trail, the two of us.

I can't place exactly where it happened, so when people ask, I say it happened around mile 207. That double zero in Gatlinburg, Tennessee? It was because of a snowstorm that closed all roads to Newfound Gap in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

When we headed back out, the snow had been packed down due to tourists and other hikers. That packed down snow had turned into ice. With new footwear, I slipped every other step. I believe strongly that during one of these slips, my ankle turned in a way it shouldn't have.

I sincerely believe that if I had bought and worn Yaktrax, I would have been able to push on, through more than the half of Virginia I did, through the remaining states and landmarks - Shenandoah National Park in northern Virginia, Harper's Ferry in West Virginia, the original Washington Monument in Maryland, Lehigh Gap in Pennsylvania, the boardwalks in New Jersey, Bear Mountain State Park in New York, the Taconic Range in Connecticut, Mt. Greylock in Massachusetts, the Green Mountains in Vermont (or "Vermud," as affectionately named by thru-hikers), the Whites in New Hampshire (or "No Hope"), Mahoosuc Notch in Maine (or "Pain").

And, of course, Mt. Katahdin.

Instead, because of that one stumble in the Smokies, heading out of Newfound Gap, I hiked 70 miles on a swollen ankle, took a zero in Hot Springs, and kept going. I limped through North Carolina and into Tennessee.

And from Tennessee into Virginia. Which was a lot rockier and hillier than my guidebook and GPS showed.


After two weeks off to heal, I was back. I hiked 200 miles before realizing I could no longer on. My ankle and foot hurt too much.

I did seven hundred miles on the Appalachian National Scenic Trail. Through sheer willpower, I walked five hundred miles on an injured foot.

Pretzel was right.

The Appalachian Trail is just walking. Up and down mountains. On roads. Through rain, snow, sleet, wind, and sun.

But he was also wrong.

It's not easy. It's a physical challenge. It's a mental challenge.

I ended my thru-hike attempt on June 18, after eight weeks off.

Here is what I learned, and what I will apply next time.

• Regardless of the weight (4.4 ounces), I will be carrying Yaktrax in the snowier months. Even if it's nice and warm in the valleys, it snows in the Appalachian Mountains well into April and May. 
• I loved my Altras. I will not be making the mistake of wearing boots - the stiff body didn't allow my foot bones to spread out, and doing fifteen mile days were excruciating. With my Altras, I was able to easily do twenty milers. However, I might go with Lone Peaks instead of Provision. 
• There is no rushing. A part of why I pushed myself so hard was because I wanted to finish the trail by the end of July - in time for my sister's bachelorette party and her wedding three weeks later. For each day that I didn't hike much as I wanted, did a nearo, or a zero, I was mentally counting the miles and how much I would have to do to make up for it. If you want to shatter records, by all means, go for it. Me, next time, I think I'll take my time and smell the flowers. 
• I want to try going stoveless. 
• I want to start camping four miles from towns, to save money. I might swing by hostels and pay that $2 or $3 or whatever to shower and charge my electronics, but spend my nights outside of town. 
• Hitchhiking is harder than it looks. 

Guys.

Guys.

Guys.

I am SO. SO. SO. sorry.

I totally failed at NaBloPoMo. I could make up excuses, but honestly I just... didn't feel like blogging. I didn't feel like sitting down at my computer and writing a post about just anything.

If my blog had a particular topic or theme, then yeah, I think it would be easier.

But it doesn't.

I talk about what's on my mind. I talk about dealing with issues that young adults face. I talk about some controversial topics.

That's it.

And I have further bad news.

In the light of my upcoming thru-hike starting March 12, this blog will be ON HIATUS from now until I return from the Appalachian Trail. Hopefully, when I return I will be a seasoned backpacker, a 2,000 miler, and most importantly, a thru-hiker who has walked through every type of forest, in every kind of weather, struggled with hunger, bug bites (ticky ticky tick....), sickness, injury, and gear malfunctions, in order to stand upon Mount Katahdin.

My deaf ears hear the sound of millions (ha!!) of voices crying out in despair.

"But how will I get my occasional fix of Gina-isms? Her bitingly sarcastic humor is what gets me through the day!"

Aw, you flatter me, dear readers. You all warm the cockles of my cold heart.

For those of you who hunger for my Pulitzer Prize-worthy writing, fear not! I am somewhat more active over on Appalachian Trials (yes, Trials. Not Trail). I was selected to join the 2016 Class of Bloggers and blog about my pre-trail, trail, and post-trail experiences.

Right now, my brain is all Appalachian Trail and very little of anything else. I am busy thinking of ways to save money for the trail, where to find reliable gear, and just in general dreaming of the day I set off for my walk. My long walk.

OK.

My very, very, very long walk.

One that is approximately 2,200 miles long.

Happy?

Anyway.

So I'm somewhat more active over on Appalachian Trials and will become even more active once I finish gathering all my gear, creating my gear list to show off my new stuff, and start heading out on shakedown hikes in January and February.

And then you'll get to hear all about my adventures on the trail.

But in order for you to get your occasional dose of me, you'll need to scoot your booty over (or just click this upcoming link...) to here.

This link goes directly to my author's page on Appalachian Trials. Here, you can see all the posts I have written so far, and anytime I post something new, my page will automatically get updated with the most recent post.

Alternatively, on the page, there is a form you can fill out. Just under my bio you will see "Subscribe to Gina's Posts" with a blank form. Just put in your name and your e-mail. And ta-da! Anytime I post an update, you get an e-mail. In the e-mail, you'll see this:

Even further, I am working on adding a badge to this site, so when you click on the badge (it's gonna be huge and yellow - impossible to miss!) it'll take you to my author page where you can read to your heart's content.

However, I do strongly suggest that you check out the rest of the AppTrials website! There is a lot of cool content and it's updated almost constantly. Who knows, maybe I won't be, but someone else will be your inspiration, and you yourself will thru-hike the Appalachian Trail one day?

So, again, I wanted to remind all of my dear readers that:

This blog will be on hiatus effective immediately, through to the end of my Appalachian Trail thru-hike.

Hi folks! 

I've committed to writing a post every weekday for the month of November! I even submitted my blog to the blogroll and everything. If I have any additional posts that I'd like to do during November (for example, NaBloPoMo for December), I will post them on the weekends. 

Listed below are the prompts for the full month of November. Follow along with me on this journey! 

Hi folks,

Sorry about the lack of posts! It has been insanely busy lately at work, and in my personal life as well. I've had family visiting, job interviews, and have been working nonstop.

However, on Sunday, November 1, I will be taking part of BlogHer's NaBloPoMo November challenge!

NaBloPoMo, you say?

I know. It sounds like alphabet soup or maybe some pretty unique yodeling.

National Blog Posting Month. NaBloPoMo. It's similar to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I will be following the November blog prompts, so get ready!

In the meantime, here's a picture of Ringo channeling his inner Marnie the Dog.

All pajammied down and ready 4 snax

I have the coolest supervisor ever.

Seriously.

I casually texted him, "Do you think there's any Mile-a-Minute on Breakneck Ridge?"

He responded, "Possibly. Why?"

I said, "No such reason. Just needed a good excuse to go. I'm done with monitoring for this month. I thought it would be a great place to scout."

He followed up with,



Oh. Yeah. Coolest supervisor ever.

So, that Friday, I prepared my pack, filled up two bottles of water, and made sure I was ready. Then I headed out.

Hike the Hudson Valley gives Breakneck Ridge a difficulty rating of 10/10. I had already conquered Storm King, Schunemunk, and Dunderberg, among others. Storm King was 6/10, and Schunemunk was 9/10. The New York-New Jersey Trail Conference features Dunderberg in their trail guides, although there is no hiking guide for the trail that I take for monitoring.

Driving up to the ridge, I was mildly intimidated. It was huge. It was craggy. It was rocky. Nevertheless, I made sure my boots were double knotted and secured my pack. Then I hit the trail.

It's mildly disconcerting when, as you head out on the trail, you see this sign.

Yeah. Definitely not a walk in the park. Still, I was excited!

Heading out, I took the White Trail and followed it, climbing over the tunnel that runs over Route 9D. I kept climbing. And climbing. And climbing. It seemed like the climb would never end. At several points, I was using my hands to pull myself up, since so many of the scrambles had handholds above my head.

At one point, I had to climb straight up with my feet firmly balancing me on the sides of a narrow gully. I stopped several times to allow hikers to pass, since I was actually genuinely scouting for Mile-a-Minute and was going slowly.

There were two hikers who had brought their dog with them (looks like he was a German Shorthaired Pointer if anyone's curious). I knew dogs were allowed on the trail, but was somewhat surprised that someone would take their dog along, especially since some of the climbs were nearly vertical and several times the trail required some creative maneuvering to get past some of the obstacles. I let these hikers go, and prepared myself to catch the dog a few times (which I had to). There were some decently nice views.

And then I reached the first overlook. W.O.W. 


Directly across the river was Storm King Mountain. To my right, I could see Pollepel Island and the Bannerman's Castle was visible. Beyond that was the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge. I spent some time here, relaxing and decompressing from the climb.

Then I turned around. Oh. There was even more of a climb ahead of me. Huge rocks, scraggly boulders, and a barely-marked trail. I tightened my waist straps and tackled this section. I was planning on taking the tougher side, but when I kept sliding back to the bottom because my boots couldn't grip the rocks, I headed toward the easier option. I kept climbing further and further up, until I reached the second overlook.

Somewhere between the first and the second overlook, I stopped and snapped this photo. People with a fear of heights, turn back now.

Of course, because I'm fearless, I got as close to the edge as I could to look over, multiple times. I know people who are afraid of heights who would despise hiking with me (sorry, guys). I hung out at the second overlook for a few minutes, grabbed a gulp or two of water, and headed on.

I kept climbing up bluffs, continuously. And then. There was no more. I had passed the third overlook, stopped for a quick lunch between the third and fourth overlooks, and finally reached the top.

I pushed forward. I stayed on the White Trail as it dropped off into the woods. It was a nice, fun little meander, before I took a left onto the Red Trail. This trail headed straight downhill the entire way down the ridge. It dead-ends into the Wilkinson Memorial Trail, where I took a left as it led me back to the highway. I carefully navigated back to my car. The entire hike had taken 3 hours 45 minutes, 15 minutes shy of the 4 hours average stated by the writer of Hike The Hudson Valley.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from this hike!

I was inspired by The Cat Lady's (Sara) blog post the other day and wanted to write a bit more about this issue.

But wait, some background information first!

There is a term called audism that means the discrimination of a person or a group based on their ability to hear. Most often, it is discrimination by the majority to the minority (oppression), although other types exist - discrimination by the minority to the majority, internalized discrimination, etc.

(as an aside - here's to everyone who said my minor was useless and wouldn't amount to anything. SEE!!! I JUST EDUCATED PEOPLE ABOUT DEAF CULTURE!)

I know I have some readers who don't truly understand Deaf culture, so I'm going to explain something here. There are two terms in use - Deaf and deaf, and even though the word is the same, the capitalization changes everything. The term, Deaf, refers to a group of people who are culturally deaf and have a strong deaf identity. Maybe they attended a deaf school, or have a deaf family. A deaf person (not Deaf) is most often deaf in the medical sense. This person may not have a deaf identity, or chooses to avoid Deaf culture.

I am culturally Deaf, and I'm proud. I don't hide my Deafness.

Except.

Except.

Except. For one thing.

My job application materials. Nowhere in there does it blatantly say "I'm Deaf!" Of course, in my education section I mention that I received a BS with a minor in Deaf Cultural Studies. Later in my resume, when I list my scholarships and awards, I list that I was selected as the Outstanding Graduating Student of 2015 by the National Technical Institute for the Deaf (NTID) Student Congress. I also list multiple scholarships that I received from NTID.

But when you go to Rochester Institute of Technology, home to one of the largest collegiate populations of D/deaf students in the world, many people do minor in Deaf Studies. Many hearing students do get involved with the Deaf community. Many do receive awards along the like that I did.

Nowhere else do I mention that I have a Deaf family, that I attended two deaf schools before I was mainstreamed.

There has been so many instances where potential employers or recruiters just fell off the face of the earth as soon as I mentioned I was Deaf. For example, a few years ago I was living in Rochester for the summer, alone in my apartment, while I was taking summer classes, working, and studying for the GRE (which sucked, by the way). My summer class ended in late June, and my summer job was from 9am to 3pm during the week, so I had a LOT of free time, since I studied for the GRE in the early mornings (since I was taking the GRE in the morning). I decided it would be a good idea to apply for a part-time job.

And since I lived literally a two minutes' walk from a bookstore, I decided to apply there. This store was on the edge of the RIT campus, and was used to Deaf people since it's also the textbook distributor for RIT students. I headed over, asked if they were hiring (yes), and filled out an application and dropped it off. A few days later, the manager contacted me, asking for an interview. I listed a few available times, confirmed a date and time. Then I mentioned, "Oh, I'm Deaf. I will need an interpreter. I should be able to get one, but just wanted to let you know!"

He contacted me, "We will no longer need to interview you. We have found another person to hire."

okay..... He was enthusiastic up until I mentioned I was Deaf. And I mean, I could have been a great asset. I love books, I knew the store like the back of my hand, and it always took me under a minute to find a book I wanted, because I knew how the store organized its books.

This isn't the only instance, but one that stands out the most.

Now, as I go forth, applying for "real" jobs for the start of my adulting stage of life, this is a constant fear. Will I get turned down? Will I never get an interview, because of my hearing loss?

Let me tell you something. When I interned at the Conservators' Center, I worked 40 hours a week without an interpreter. I was able to get by fine because I could lipread decently, and I was a good, hard worker. I learned how to prep and skin chickens, rabbits, rats and mice in under three minutes, by watching others. The only time I had an interpreter was when we had our classes on Wednesday afternoons, but the interpreter never went out with me into the compounds.

You know what? If I was able to intern there in a high-risk environment with hungry, large carnivores and not get injured worse than a cut from a can lid, I know I can handle a lot of things.

These employers? They hear, "Oh, I'll need an interpreter for my interview," and they think, "She can never work for us. She can't do the work."

If potential employers can wake up and realize that this is discrimination, and a lot of Deaf people don't speak up because they're used to it (unfortunately), so. many. more. people. could be hired.

It's not as simple as "Get a freaking job!" (someone has said this)

But why should I, a fantastic potential employee, be passed over because I can't hear anything even with hearing aids, and relies on lip reading? I have a graduate degree. I scored in the 93rd percentile for the vocabulary section on the GRE. I had thousands of dollars in scholarships through college. I could pass any background check with flying colors. I know how to interact with people. I can drive very well (the only black mark might be the dozens of parking tickets I got through RIT....). I know how to deal with people, I know how to operate in a high-risk, high-energy situation.

So, tell me, why am I not being picked because I can't hear?

Something's gotta give.

Key places in my life:
Hamilton, New Jersey: My birthplace and where I lived for the first five years of my life.
Greensboro, North Carolina: Where I lived after moving from NJ, up until I left for college.
Rochester, New York: The Roc, where I lived for six years, the length of time that it took for me to finish my Bachelor's and Master's degrees.
Mebane, North Carolina: Where I lived and worked during my internship in 2013.
Bear Mountain, New York: Where I am currently living for my internship this summer.
Wiley Stables: Where I learned how to ride, and rode at for seven years. The location where I leased my first horse.
Magnolia Farms Riding Academy: Where I boarded and rode at for five years before leaving for college. Ringo's birthplace. The theater of many, many, many ridiculous examples of barn drama.
Irish Rose Stables: Ringo's current living situation.
Costa Rica: Where I studied abroad. A piece of my heart is somewhere in the cloud forest, never to be found again.
Rochester Institute of Technology: My home for six years. Two years ago, I wasn't ready to leave. Now, I think I was at the university a year too long.


Places I would like to visit again:
Costa Rica: Duh.
San Francisco, California: If anything, just to be able to visit Alcatraz.
Seattle, Washington: Considering one of my best friends lives here, this is a given.
Chapel Hill, North Carolina: My sister's alma mater is the University of North Carolina, and I haven't visited Chapel Hill since 2013. Would definitely love to visit again!
Toronto, Ontario: Just because. (The Traveler and possibly The Cat Lady know what I'm thinking of!)
Washington, D.C.: I have a lot of friends in this area, many of whom I haven't seen in years.
Lake Anna, Virginia: The last time I visited Lake Anna was in 2011. That is four years too long.
Maine: Yes. The whole state. The last time I was in Maine was in 2012. Three years too long.
The West: This is the colloquial name that my family calls our trip in 2001, visiting many of the national parks throughout Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, and the Dakotas.
Columbus, Ohio: As a crazy Ohio State fan, I would LOVE to attend another home game (maybe the one against Michigan? hint hint)!

Places I would like to visit:
Austin, Texas: I have friends here!
The Galapagos: Self explanatory.
My Country.
The World.