I have time to type another one.
When I was 30 I decided to do a portion of the Appalachian Trail beginning in late April. I had studied edible plants for years, felt that I could give existing on wild plants a genuine try. I am vegetarian so it was no big sacrifice.
I packed a backpack with gear, oatmeal and powdered milk, strapped a knife to my thigh, $20 in my pocket, Trail map, plant ID book and my dog and dogfood.
At the freeway I hitch hiked to the trail head in PA. I was very fortunate to get a ride with a decent trucker who was quite concerned about my safety.
All went well on the trail for a two days until I realized that it is a month behind up in the mountains. I couldn't find much of anything growing. A miscalculation, to say the least.
My plan was to head north to stay in cooler spring conditions and avoid the emergence of rattlesnakes, ending in Maine. I found nothing on the short trail through Delaware; New Jersey had watercress, and a few other things. It also became apparent that the trail was picked over unless you went significantly off trail.
By the time I made it into mid New York I had used up my provisions, having spent most of my $20 on more when I left New Jersey. Still not much in the way of edible plants 3 weeks later.
One late afternoon I was pretty hungry by the time I made it to a shelter, only to find it occupied in a big way. There was a Boyscout Jamboree in its final day. They offered me a tent(I didn't bring one, duh, hiking shelter to shelter) and some dinner. Hamburgers and boy did those burnt hard patties on a bun taste good. The kids loved my dog and kept sneaking her more burgers most of the evening. What a great experience, exchanging stories, singing, laughing, EATING.
The next day they loaded my pack with about 50 cooked burgers, box of cornflakes, a bunch of baked potatoes and cookies.
The pack was a bit heavy so I wasn't able to do my customary 13 miles, that was for sure.
I left the mountains after another week and 1/2 because I nearly killed myself on a wet rock ledge when my pack got lodged in a cleft in pouring rain and I was looking at a 150' drop. I figured that I had the experience that I was looking for, called it quits and hitched back home with a professor and his wife. I was dripping wet.
I found out on the news the next week that if I had continued further I would have been the murder victim instead of the couple who were murdered at the shelter at my estimated time of arrival.
My trip contained so much luck except for finding enough edible plants to sustain strength.
OH! And I ate meat for a few more weeks at home, then back to vegetarianism ever since. I'll always remember those burgers, lol!
When I was 30 I decided to do a portion of the Appalachian Trail beginning in late April. I had studied edible plants for years, felt that I could give existing on wild plants a genuine try. I am vegetarian so it was no big sacrifice.
I packed a backpack with gear, oatmeal and powdered milk, strapped a knife to my thigh, $20 in my pocket, Trail map, plant ID book and my dog and dogfood.
At the freeway I hitch hiked to the trail head in PA. I was very fortunate to get a ride with a decent trucker who was quite concerned about my safety.
All went well on the trail for a two days until I realized that it is a month behind up in the mountains. I couldn't find much of anything growing. A miscalculation, to say the least.
My plan was to head north to stay in cooler spring conditions and avoid the emergence of rattlesnakes, ending in Maine. I found nothing on the short trail through Delaware; New Jersey had watercress, and a few other things. It also became apparent that the trail was picked over unless you went significantly off trail.
By the time I made it into mid New York I had used up my provisions, having spent most of my $20 on more when I left New Jersey. Still not much in the way of edible plants 3 weeks later.
One late afternoon I was pretty hungry by the time I made it to a shelter, only to find it occupied in a big way. There was a Boyscout Jamboree in its final day. They offered me a tent(I didn't bring one, duh, hiking shelter to shelter) and some dinner. Hamburgers and boy did those burnt hard patties on a bun taste good. The kids loved my dog and kept sneaking her more burgers most of the evening. What a great experience, exchanging stories, singing, laughing, EATING.
The next day they loaded my pack with about 50 cooked burgers, box of cornflakes, a bunch of baked potatoes and cookies.
The pack was a bit heavy so I wasn't able to do my customary 13 miles, that was for sure.
I left the mountains after another week and 1/2 because I nearly killed myself on a wet rock ledge when my pack got lodged in a cleft in pouring rain and I was looking at a 150' drop. I figured that I had the experience that I was looking for, called it quits and hitched back home with a professor and his wife. I was dripping wet.
I found out on the news the next week that if I had continued further I would have been the murder victim instead of the couple who were murdered at the shelter at my estimated time of arrival.
My trip contained so much luck except for finding enough edible plants to sustain strength.
OH! And I ate meat for a few more weeks at home, then back to vegetarianism ever since. I'll always remember those burgers, lol!
Glad you made it home to tell the tale!
I did have a good sized piece of plastic.
