It’s the morning in the mountains,

And I am crying. 

I was caught actually crying looking at a view of little ski slopes carved shakily into pine covered mounds nestled into the clouds. What brought me here was sheer determination. What broke me? That remains unspoken. 

As time passes I find it harder and harder to talk about the things I don’t want to face, because if they live quietly in my heart then I can continue on light and free. This is not me bottling things up. This is not me being afraid. 

This is me being tired from working hard. 

All day I work hard to keep afloat, to hike up and down rocks because I’m going to see a wooden sign that’s 1000 miles away. 

And when the day ends I want to sleep, and I sleep heavier and heartier than I’ve ever slept in my life. It’s truly a joy to sleep. 

The mornings come and they are quiet, so quiet that nothing else could be quieter, and all the things in my heart begin to rattle. 

When I looked off into the distance on this morning I was thinking about where you are, when you actually finished the trail and left this life behind, where you moved to now…it all seems so far away. 

I wondered about how far away the things I am reaching for actually are. My depth perception fails with time. 

I harbor an armada of moments, quietly floating in my heart, some of them lifetimes away, and still the mountains roll on ceaselessly into the distance. 

The Freakin’ WHITES!

I was having a difficult time understanding why everyone was loving the Whites so much.

Crazy, right? Everyone is talking about how amazingly beautiful this place is and I’d been hiking it for a day or two in the rain and fog, not understanding why it was such a big deal.


Don’t get me wrong, everything was still beautiful and I had a great time up Moosilauke, but I was also emotionally downtrodden. I felt alone and was really tired of slipping on stupid rocks. I think you may have figured that out from my last post. 

But then two key things happened:

  1. Chet gave me the gift of a full night’s sleep 
  2. The clouds lifted. 


“WOW” I said outloud. “So THIS is what everyone has been talking about!” The glorious mountinous world stood before me, unfettered and unending. 

Now, cue the epic awesomeness.

We stood in a parking lot and stared up at this monster: 


And when we got to the top? You could see the parking lot way way down below. 



And once we got up on Webster Cliffs it was all ridge line from there! What does that mean? That means we’re above the trees and we can always see where we’re going. That means Mt. Washington loomed in the distance all day. It was a beautiful combination of empowerment, excitement, and nerves. I KNEW I would hike it, but it boggled my mind that I’d do it all in one day. 


And the sun set on us as we tried to find the Lakes Of the Clouds Hut and I felt so isolated in the mountains. It was just me and Aussie and huge mountains, tucked away into our own spacious spot on the planet. 

I’m seriously struggling about how to put this whole part of the adventure into words. Even the photos don’t seem to do the landscape justice. 


The Whites have been an emotional roller coaster. I think my experience is best explained in bullet points: 

  • I cried in the morning looking at the mountains outside Galehead Hut 
  • I had good luck with work for stays at huts as long as I was alone and got there before 7 
  • There were so many rocks. 
  • It was worth it to climb up Mt Eisenhower
  • Mt Madison is just rocks and that sucked. 
  • Mt Washington is cooler before the tourists get up there 
  • Lakes Of the Clouds Hut actually turned people away but it was a beautiful night 
  • I saw so so so many stars, more than I’ve ever seen in my life 

And so I continue on, less than 30 miles from Maine, completely immersed and losing words every day as I become further in the wilderness. 

Fly on, 

Lil Wayne 

The Freaking Whites (So Far)

As time goes on, it gets harder and hard to write about the experience I’m having out here.

This week has been really interesting in that regard, actually. I feel like I’ve been doing a LOT, accomplishing a LOT, yet I also feel curbed.

Curbed? No. To put it plainly, I’ve been feeling really shitty.

The Whites are HARD, man. I’m having a hard time. Sometimes.

AH, see? Hard to explain.

Moosilauke was Dope.

I climbed up that mountain like it was my JOB (well, technically I guess it is…) and it felt good. I got to the top with a group of people and we spent time together up there. We also only hiked 10 miles that day, which felt great.

Chill day, tough climb, even tougher climb down.

But we nailed it. Together.

Then I move on to the Kinsmans.

And my world came crashing down. Yesterday was insanely hard for me to finish. Don’t get me wrong, the rock climbing part was fun. But being alone? In the rain? Slipping and sliding?

I mean, shit, it wasn’t even raining all day. It was mostly humid.

But I was so alone in the middle of the woods. And I pulled so many muscles trying to stay afloat and upright.

So at 7:45 pm I have the genius idea to go hike 6 more miles.

Smooth thinking, Wayne. Real good idea. High on caffeine and ready to feel something other than my own internal pain, I said goodbye to the group of girl campers I just met and set out into the wilderness. 

It was a pretty dumb idea. 

Even if it’s only dusk, the forest gets DARK real QUICK. Super dark. 

Was this a way for me to ignore my inner turmoil by putting myself in a scary situation? Maybe. 

Did I end up safe? Of course! I didn’t actually get to hike 6 miles. I showed up at the Lonesome Pond Hut around 8:30pm and the lady working there said “oh my goodness please sleep on our floor it’s fine you shouldn’t be hiking this late!” 

Amazing first Hut experience. 

The hut’s in the Whites sound very confusing, because “normal people” but a bunk and sleep there for the night but you can do a work for stay but you have to get there early and they can’t always offer you a place to stay or food but they also have such good food. It sounds confusing and intimidating. But in reality? It’s not really. You just DO it. So last night when I showed up late, they offered me salvation. 

Anyway, the point is I’ve had a really difficult past 24 hours. 

And so right now?

I’m sitting on a porch listening to GQ play guitar, he’s just riffing and we’re all sitting here quietly listening as the sun sets. 

This morning I felt sad enough to cry because all the people I’d been hiking with kept hiking and I felt truly alone. 

But that’s not the case. It never is. Not on the Appalachian Trail. No, here there’s always a friend right around the corner, waiting for you with a smiling face, so pumped to see you again. Everything works out. 


Everything always works out. 

Fly on,

Lil Wayne. 

 

 

“Awesome” – Rocket Fuel 

It’s an equally empowering and daunting feeling to see all the mountains you’re going to be climbing within the week.

Here’s the deal: we’re doing New Hampshire. Things are going great. They get a little steep, the terrain profile in AWOL’s guide is no help, but for the most part things are good. Then we get up smart mountain, it’s the type of mountain that’s sort of shaped like an L, so when you’re walking along a lower ridge you can see the small itty bitty fire tower up at the top that you need to get to in 3 miles. 

So when you get up there, after huffing and puffing, after your calves feel like they’re on fire, you climb up said fire tower and can see this: 


See that big, blue mountain? That’s Moosilauke. That’s one day’s hike away. 

You’re probably thinking what I’m thinking. “HAH WHAAAAT?” No way. Holy shit. 

Let me tell you, when you get to the actual base of it, you get a glimpse of the entire thing. And you’re stuck with the thought I am going to be climbing up hill for 4 miles.

Spoiler alert: it’s not that bad.

We made it up in 2 hours or less. And that’s what’s been so interesting about these past couple days: the future looks really difficult and daunting, but it ending up being triumphant and fun. 

Every single person I hiked with to the top of Moosilauke had an epic smile on their face this morning. We hiked a big ass mountain. And it was a beautiful god damned day. In fact, some how, despite all our previous anxieties about weather and terraine, everything turned out to be perfect. 

So now I firmly believe that it’s silly to sweat the future. There’s just too many factors that you can’t be certain on. 

As of today, I feel this calm floating over me. Am I still nervous about the Whites? Sure. We got a full blown view of what we’re going to climb this week at the top of the mountain. 

But I’m not too worried. Because I’m going to DO it. It’s going to happen. 

Well, to be honest, it’s 9:40pm and I feel like I’m about to pass out. 

I’ll work on some cool poetic metaphoric realizations for y’all later. 

Until then, fly on!

Lil Wayne 

“How Did I Get Here?” 

I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately.

Actually, it’s really amusing to think about what my reaction would be if someone came up to me in the past and said, “Hey, in a year from now, you’re going to….” because most of the time I’d be hilariously shocked. 

Here’s some of those scenarios. 

If you’d come up to me a year ago and told me I’d be:

  1. Stealing hand sanitizer from a portapottie on the side of the road in a random town in CT 
  2. Sleeping on the floor in a maple syrup factory 
  3. Climbing up a mountain with metal poles in my hands while an impending thunder storm rolls in 
  4. Sleeping in a random old ladie’s yard eating her homemade cookies 
  5. Eating a plate of eggs made by a kind stranger in the middle of the woods. 
  6. Sad to only have 500 miles left of a hike 
  7. Hitchhiking in several different states 
  8. Climbing up those massive blue mountains looming in the distance 

I guess I wouldn’t have been surprised, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you how I got there, and I’d be so excited. 

And so we hikers laugh every day about all these crazy situations we find ourselves in, endless roaming further into the north. 

Until next time, Fly on! 

Lil Wayne. 

Vermud: A Place Of Great Surprises 

If I had to use one word to describe my time in Vermont on the Appalachian Trail, it would be curveball. 

Vermont was full of beautiful, muddy, unexpected surprises at all of the right and wrong times. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures from my first day. My phone had died and oh yeah, IT WAS RAINING ALL DAY. That’s right, I did 17 miles in this oddly freezing rain. Which meant no trekking poles, so much mud, and shivers all day long. I straight up ran with my pack on because I couldn’t keep warm enough. But you know what? That day ended by seeing an unexpected friend AND getting to the parking lot JUST in time to hitch a ride with Bobo to the hotel. Talk about perfect timing. 

When I call Vermont “Vermud,” I am not exaggerating.

Sure, the second half was actually really solid and awesome and full of pine. And there were huge stretches of flat land. Everything you’d want from a state! But the beginning? Oh my god. Dude. The….the mud pits were just so huge. 



Literally walked through a river to clean off them shoes. Sometimes I felt like I was just ice skating through the trail. I only fell once (if you can believe that!) 

THE VIEWS CAME BACK!

We rose above the 2000ft elevation line! We were in the sky again! Holy cow! And despite that first few days of whatever, I’ve been blessed with amazing weather. 

Two views from the same place: The Lookout. This has been one of my favorite nights so far. Me and Murphey showed up just in time to take shelter from a thunderstorm (there was a cabin atop this mountain) and within hours ALL our friends showed up and the skies cleared and we all shared a beautiful evening full of stories and laughs and beautiful views. 


There were so many beautiful ponds, which meant places to swim which is basically a freeeee showerrrrr! Refreshing and beautiful to look at. I felt like I was living in a magazine or Nature Valley bar commercial, especially when hawks flew through the sky. 


I rocked and rolled up on Killington Mountain. Don’t people ski here? NOT TODAY. The climb up to this was literally straight up. Basically rock climbing. So much fun, so rewarding, so hard to get back down. 

I’ve been having hard days hiking.

The dense pine forest makes me feel kind of isolated and alone. It doesn’t help that my mind has been a nonstop freaking racetrack lately. Thoughts zoom round and round my brain every day, and it’s so hard to stop that when you have no one to talk to.

But every night I get happily surprised by the arrival of my dear friends and I end up having the time of my life again. 

So, overall, Vermont might be my favorite state so far.

Even after this long winded post I’m realizing there’s so many more stories, so many moments, so much I learned out here. 

I am terrified to face the Whites now that I’m in New Hampshire. But it’s ok it’ll be ok right! It’s fine! Rock and roll. 

So thank you, Vermud and

Helllooooo New Hampshire!!!!

Fly on! 

Lil Wayne 

Breakin’ That Comfort Zone

“Do one thing that scares you every day.”

I may have taken that to the extreme when I decided to run out into the wilderness, a place that I had formerly been (and still kind of am) afraid of. 

Someone once told me it only takes a few days for you to expand your comfort zone. I’ve been totally shattering mine since March 16th, to the point where I’m only comfortable doing things that make me uncomfortable

This week it was cowboy camping. 

What is that, you ask? 

Oh, it is straight up sleeping under the sky. That’s right. No tent. No hammock. No nothin’! Just a sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and a girl ignoring all her worries. 

I owe all of this to my new friend Hobs who swears by cowboy camping. This is him, he’s super cool. 


After a completely calm, non-life-threatening night, I can confidently say he’s right. It’s pretty dope. 

And you know what? I’m ALIVE! Crazy right? But man, that’s what I’m getting at here: misplaced and misunderstood fears can easily stop you from doing awesome things. 

You can do so much if you want to. Whatever makes you happy. And breaking your comfort zone can introduce you to new things that you didn’t know could make you happy! I’m not lying when I say that I’m still totally afraid of the woods. And that night I was certain mice or a snake would come out of the hole on the tent platform we were sleeping on. But nothing happened. Nothing but sleep and beautiful stars. 

I realized I had the tools to fight my fears if need be, the tools to keep me safe. So all that was left behind was this vibrating fear inside me. That’s no reason to put up a tent and rob myself of a dope night!

So, just go do it. Listen to Shia Lebuffe. If you’re afraid, support yourself with the tools for success and then go. Go be free and camp underneath the stars with nothing more than a sleeping bag and a buddy, because life is waiting to be lived my friend

Fly on! 

Lil Wayne