Not Quite Thru

As a youngster, I played in the woods, scrambling over boulders and walking a trail through lush leafy glades to school each day. Looking out my bedroom window, I could see a mountain where people walked with backpacks. They chased the spring blooms northward, following the Appalachian Trail. 75 years since its first blazes were …

Furniture against the walls of the apartment continues to vanish as the piles of gear, from winter jackets and gloves to bottles of Dr. Bronner’s Soap, loose stuff sacks, and technical t-shirts, grow. A stack of maps – reviewed, folded, and set aside after the realization that almost no two of the maps are alike, …

As the packing continues for our March 15th departure date, the storage unit is nearly full, and the apartment is almost empty. With only two plates, two glasses, one cup (I’m not a coffee drinker), a bowl, a couple of pans and a coffee maker, the kitchen has only the bare necessities. Counters, shelves, and …

It’s been more than a decade since I lived out of a backpack for more than a week, and the experience brings back echoes of those rambles through Europe and Asia. We’re not quite to the AT yet – soon! – as my authorly duties have us living out of our packs in hotel rooms. …

As seen in Dahlonega, here we are at the kickoff event for thru-hiker season. We were fortunate to share table space with Gene Espy, the second man ever to thru-hike the entire Appalachian Trail. He did it in 1951. A great sendoff!

Being invited to speak at the 2nd annual “Spring on Springer” Dahlonega Trail Festival sparked a chain of events that propelled me forward to be standing on a mountaintop today with my sweetheart, the Appalachian Trail our journey. And thus the trail magic begins. My old friend and co-author Johnny Molloy recommended me as a …

All set up in our Lightheart Duo. Rain or shine, this is home. Been hiking for nearly a week and getting stronger and more fleet of foot every day, and more adept at setting up camp quickly. Life is good!

A sign that means welcome relief. At Gooch Mountain, the tent sites were on a mountain slope and even a walk to anywhere in camp meant a workout.

I jumped back from the edge of the campfire ring, startled. In the dim light and in my mind’s eye, the crackled, gnarled wood of a well-season timber had the same etching pattern as the scutes of a small alligator, and instinct took over. Never mind we were 3900′ atop a mountain in Georgia! When …

Sure, John’s having an easy time of it! We’d wondered about the camp chair ourselves. When we caught a shuttle a little while later into town, one of the gals said, “that chair’s been here for weeks, and we’ve seen it all over the hillside!”

Less than a week in the woods, and we are soaked, bedraggled. The morning fog never lifted, so a walk in the clouds turned to a fine mist of rain and then a downpour as we edged along slick rock ledges on the way to Woody Gap. The rain pounded heavy and cold, drenching my …

The very name felt ominous – Blood Mountain, standing tall above Slaughter Creek. None of the simple trail materials with us provided a backstory, so I imagined it a dark place along the Trail of Tears. For a thru-hiker, it’s the first massive mountain on the profile chart, scary to imagine crossing. But beyond lay …

Our second day of rain, we stopped for a snack. I looked at John and said, “your Dad is right, maybe we aren’t wrapped too tight!” Just then a couple of German girls came along and took this photo for us. As they handed the camera back, the sky opened up. We slogged across Blood …

A week into our hike, it was obvious my old backpack and rain jacket had seen better days. The aches and pains and chills that I didn’t need to have came from a source that could be replaced. And so it was that we spent my birthday gear shopping. I knew a new pack was …

Having never camped on mountaintops before, it was a delight to discover what spring in the North Georgia mountains means after the rains depart and the skies are bright. We pushed hard after our first zero day, feeling refreshed and fleet of foot climbing up from Neels Gap and over the mountains to our first …

Long distance hikers take “zero days” – that is, days where you don’t hike any trail miles – to take care of off-trail tasks like grocery shopping, laundry, medical visits, and the like. Usually zero days include eating better food than you can haul along the trail – or food you wouldn’t normally eat in …

“I’ve never done a rock scramble!” said John, looking dazed and worn atop Albert Mountain. “Three times my pack pulled me backwards and I had to hang on for dear life.” It wasn’t an easy day by any means. A lot of up, a lot of down, more up, and then the cliffs – the …

Hiking the AT isn’t easy. Having section hiked parts of it years ago, I thought I was up to the challenge, but even with years of hiking experience, it’s like starting from scratch for both of us. Georgia whipped us hard. John turned an ankle coming down Springer. Pushing a long day after Neels Gap, …

In the low elevations of North Carolina, spring is in full leaf. As we’ve walked north from Georgia we’ve watched the understory transform from a smattering of wildflowers to a symphony of colors and textures. In one day, in one sweeping glance, trillium nods in white, pink, yellow, and scarlet. Explosions of troutlily fill damp …

“Your pack weight,” said Dan, “is directly proportional to your happiness on the trail.” Returning to Franklin after sore knees plagued us both, we sat with Dan “Sheltowee” and Nina “Waterfall” Rogers, friends and experienced long distance hikers who could coach us out of our weight conundrum. John and I are steadily losing weight so …

Not a sight you’d expect to see in late April, but as we came to Max Patch, it was covered in snow. We did not climb it this day, opting for warm and dry and a return at a sunnier time.

As a former triathlete, John had the background to understand athletic training. I’m new to the game, having done little since high school. Seeing our hike as a study in athletic training is a new perspective for me, but it fits. Working our muscles for 8-10 hours a day means a lot of wearing down. …

Looking back to where John was, I could see the pain in his eyes. No fire, just a weary lost expression. We were headed for Wayah Bald and kept being fooled by false summits. The trail clung steeply to the hillside. The skies drizzled on us. Gutsy kept pace behind him. We were pushing a …

As we left Tray Mountain, the skies settled into a permanent overcast that permeated the day. It felt like drizzle but didn’t, the skies heavy about leafless trees. Climbing the long ascent to Kelly Knob, a new perspective lay before us: the colors of the Blue Ridge. In that moment, I understood the artist’s palette …

As a couple, we prefer sleeping in our tent at night. One of the features that makes the AT appealing to long distance hikers, however, is the shelter system, three-sided buildings with sleeping platforms that accomodate from 6 to 18 hikers, depending on the size of the shelter. When it rains, almost eveyone tries to …

Step lively at Fontana Dam as the traffic zips by!

Almost lost my hat on Rocky Top, up in the Tennessee Hills … winds were blowing strong on Rocky Top, guess they always will.

“How did you like the Smokies?” asked Waterboy. It took me a minute to think about the answer. “Beautiful, but difficult,” I said. The Great Smoky Mountains include some of the tallest mountains in the Southeast, and yes, the Appalachian Trail goes right atop them, dancing along the state line between North Carolina and Tennessee. …

After arriving cold and wet at Icewater Springs Shelter to watch it rain, rain, rain the rest of the day, we awoke to this amazing vista from the shelter: looking down on the clouds with mountaintops rising through them.

We’d stopped for a lunch break on a Georgia mountaintop when John stood up to marvel at something in a tree. “Look at this!” He reached up and found a stout length of rope perfect for bear bagging, better than the rope we were carrying. Another afternoon, we were coming down a steep slope and …

When you’re on foot, it’s a little strange to be walking up an Interstate ramp. This was our first interstate crossing on the AT, under I-40. Many more to come.

Soaking wet at Winding Stair Gap, we cowered close to the roadcut as thunder boomed and lightning crashed across the mountains. How would we get to Franklin? Our friends weren’t able to pick us up and the last hiker shuttle of the day had already left. Gutsy sat in her tent, out of the rain. …

It was not a good start to the day. John had a deep, deep cough and couldn’t stop sniffling. The drizzle that we walked in the day before turned to a downpour for the afternoon, drizzle overnight, and drizzle in the morning. We’d had a roof over our head at Standing Bear Farm – the …

After five weeks on the trail, Sandy and I still snuggled together in our enormous Big Agnes sleeping bag every night, recapping the events of the day and laughing out loud at our own mishaps and the antics of our fellow hikers. With worn muscles and sore knees, we are thankful for the miles behind …

(Just a reminder – these posts aren’t in “real time” but lagging 2-4 weeks. We’re well now, thanks!) We hadn’t planned to spend a week in Hot Springs, the first town where the AT ambles right through the center of everything, but there we were. The first few days were spent with a dear friend …

Warm meals, hot showers, and comfortable beds with pillows: such are the kindnesses extended by friends as we hike, and it makes all the difference when our spirits are sagging. At the Hostel at Laughing Heart Lodge, we’re cheered by the hospitality extended by hosts Chuck Norris and Tigger. Yes, we know them, but they …

There’s no getting around it: thru-hikers stink. It still bugs me that I can smell it even after I shower. Daily strenuous activity + weekly laundry + no flush toilets + stinky clothing + no antiperspirant = yuck! Some smell worse than others, but we’re all so stinky, especially on hot days, we hardly even …

I’d hiked here a half dozen years ago and wondered how it got its name. On the AT, you finally figure it out.

One of the aspects of the AT thus far that I’ve been thankful for are the privies at shelter areas. They aren’t always the cleanest places, but they’re a welcome sight when relief is needed. So far, they’ve been mouldering privies, using worms, mulch, and air to break everything down to compost. You must toss …

Word spreads up the trail fast. “Hiker feed at Unicoi Gap! Pancakes tomorrow at Burningtown Road!” We always seemed to miss these traveling feasts until we laid up in Hot Springs. We heard whispers in the halls of Laughing Heart before the notice went up: “Potluck at community center, 6 PM.” And so we piled …

Still recuperating and exhausted at the nearly 14 mile day into Jerry’s Cabin the prior day, I collapsed onto the platform of the Flint Mountain Shelter. It was lunchtime, and the combination of a bright, clean, welcoming shelter, sunshine, and a meal had me ready for a nap. I dozed while John read a magazine …

What’s it like hiking the AT as a couple? After years and miles being individual hikers, it’s what Sandy and I are learning. Living out of only two backpacks requires more team work, much more than just your everyday living. At home there’s a kitchen, with things like a stove, microwave and fridge. If the …

As we hopped rocks climbing a cascading stream north of Devil’s Fork Gap, John yelled out “look what you missed!” There, on the wet rocks, an equally aqueous brown salamander blending right in. For the next hour, we amused ourselves looking for them amid wet rocks and mud. There were many, all well camoflauged. As …

And some are much more obvious than others….

John’s feet hurt. Bad. It started right out of Allen Gap, but he’d had hints of it in Hot Springs, buying Superfeet insoles in hopes that they would help. En route to Jerry’s Cabin he tried reversing his socks – wearing liners on the outside. By the Shelton Graves he’d turned his socks heel up …

We didn’t make it to the meadow to camp as we’d planned – we stopped at Sam’s Gap to take care of John’s aching feet. But this meadow is certainly one of the beauty spots of the southern AT.

One of the finest views we’ve had on this hike appeared at Big Bald, a mile-high mountain north of Sam’s Gap. Open and expansive, it’s a place where thunderclouds gather easily. We enjoyed 360-degree views before the storm crashed in.

It’s Friday night in Erwin, Tennessee and we and Plodder are setting up our tents on the lawn of town hall. “We’re Occupy Erwin!” we joke. An antique car cruise is going on a couple of blocks away. Inside town hall, Miss Janet is readying an “AT Film Fest” to help connect the two communities …

As luck and timing and pace would have it, we’re caught in the bubble: the maximum flow of northbound hikers on the AT. We’ve been in it since the Smokies. Waves of hikers pass us, but we’re coping with anywhere from 24-52 people showing up at shelter areas built to accomodate 8-12 people. Worse, it’s …

After a gorgeous night at the iconic Overmountain Shelter, a historic barn with one heck of a view, we climb the last of the North Carolina balds. These grassy-topped peaks since Roan Mountain offered excellent panoramas, but the pair of Little Hump and Big Hump, our last North Carolina mountains, are simply amazing. They defy …

Getting our official photo taken at ATC headquarters in Harpers Ferry, we’re waiting for the volunteer to get us into their 2012 archive photo album. “You’re section hikers, right?” she asks. “No, we’re thru-hikers, but we jumped ahead,” I say. Finishing the AT in a single year counts as a thru-hike, no matter how you …

It took two hops to leave the southern Appalachians behind and continue north. Our friends Sally and Johnny got us to Damascus to pick up our maildrop after picking us up just past Big Hump Mountain. They’d parked in front of Mt. Rogers Outfitters, where Gutsy was hanging out. We moved our packs to the …

One of the most appealing aspects of jumping north to Harpers Ferry to continue our hike was finally immersing in history. While walking with spring was beautiful, the leafy green tunnel of the trail has a certain sameness after a while. History is writ large across the Mid-Atlantic Appalachians, although the peaks are not high. …

Everyone warns you about the Pennsylvania rocks, but no one ever mentions the rocks of Maryland. They start off somewhat innocuous, jumbles of small stones that make up the footpath. Then you climb to the top of the ridge of South Mountain and discover what rock hopping feels like in earnest. “I heard something slither,” …

While Lord Willin knew that PATC was the cream of the crop of trail maintaining clubs along the AT, we didn’t get our first taste of just how much so until Maryland. Although an old shelter, Crampton Gap was well cared for, with plenty of tent pads and no grafitti. A far cry from what …

Here we are reaching the Mason-Dixon line! I was thrilled to find that the AT followed an old streetcar line here. Dad would have loved that discovery.

There are Trail miles, and there are miles. Trail miles count towards getting the Appalachian Trail finished. Every day, however, we find ourselves putting on the “extra mile,” the one that doesn’t count but that the feet still feel. It’s often that long walk to the spring for water , or the blue blaze to …

One of the absolute truths of a thru-hike on the Appalachian Trail is that it is not recreation. It’s a job, filled with repetitive tasks. Find and purify water. Fix meals. Determine how far the feet and knees can handle. Plan town stops. Put up and take down tent. Roll out sleeping bags. Inflate and …

Stopped at the side of the highway as our tour bus waited at a restroom, I could see a distant cluster of towers on the mountain to the west. “Hey, that’s Pen Mar!” We’re visiting Gettysburg on foot, led here by a deepening interest in the Civil War history we’ve discovered along the Appalachian Trail, …

Wishing you a very happy Fourth of July and hoping you’re enjoying it outdoors! This is at the Overmountain Shelter in North Carolina, along a route Colonial patriots marched 170 miles to roust the British at King’s Mountain. For them, it wasn’t just a walk in the woods: it was freedom.

“At least one out of every four days,” said Ginny, “It’s going to rain.” Somehow it’s felt like more than that. Waking up to the latest downpour – which our sheltermates had no interest in sharing with us – I did the math. In our 46 days on the trail (as of when I wrote …

There is a visceral reaction that happens to a hiker when the air becomes charged with electricity. It might be fight or flight mode, adrealine racing. Or glancing nervously at the skies, walking faster. I’ve literally had my hair stand on end as a storm approached, so I don’t take thunderstorms lightly. We’ve hiked with …

It rained, of course. Rain pattered down through the thickening canopy overhead, leaving the  mountain laurel and persistent rocks with a glistening sheen. Climbing up from our dropoff point at Caledonia State Park, we knew we didn’t have far to go, but the trail immediately headed straight uphill, a rarity in this part of Pennsylvania. …

Hiking in a misty rain, we followed one of the easier stretches of trail so far, treated to gentle climbs, short stretches of rocks, and the moist fragrance of a spruce forest filling the air. Quartz shards sparkled along a footpath lined with densely knit ferns. Visions of food danced through my mind. While John …

Two days of supported hiking to make it through Memorial Day Weekend: it was my idea, and it seemed like bliss. We’d already encountered large groups of hikers heading into the woods for the holiday, so we knew the shelters and camping areas would be crowded. Very crowded. Add to the mix hitting the Cumberland …

Traversing the broad Cumberland Valley, we’re finally off the rocky ridges that led us here and into gently rolling hills topped with farms as far as the eye can see. For much of its length, at least what we’ve experienced thus far, the Appalachian Trail has been an exercise in seeing how many mountains you …

It was a given my shoes would fail. I’ve been hiking in New Balance running shoes for a decade – men’s size 9D, my feet shaped like bricks with no arches to speak of – and each pair normally lasted me about 350 miles. In Florida, sand means erosive destruction of the heel and toebox. …

Diving into the tent the night before as a violent thunderstorm met us head-on atop Cove Mountain, we ate little, instead huddling on a single air mattress as the storm raged around us. Stepping over downed limbs as we picked our way down a portion of the trail that the guidebook called out as “especially …

Having lived in the Pittsburgh metro for more than a decade, Duncannon came as no surprise to me. It was a novelty for John, however, to walk the streets of a gritty little riverfront town built on industry. Everyone was friendly, of course. We stopped at the gas station to tank up on Gatorade, and …

The year, 1996. An outing with Keystone Trails Association to celebrate the installation of stone steps leading almost straight down the steep slopes of Peters Mountain to a spring – a rare commodity in these parts – for one of the newest, finest shelters in Pennsylvania. This was my introduction to Peters Mountain, and a …

One of the major delights of our thru-hike has been my ability to slip into the moment and stay there. One foot in front of the other, soaking in our surroundings, noticing the little things: a snail nibbling off the top of a mushroom, a colorful leaf on the forest floor, a piece of bark …

With nearly 500 miles behind us and the daily temperature rising, it’s time I got a haircut. We pulled off the trail for resupply and ended up staying an extra night. Across the street, a beauty salon tempts. I clean up as best I can and head over there with John. The place is pretty …

After our unplanned zero in Lickdale, it took sheer willpower for John to return to the trail today. Roadwalking to Swatara Gap and climbing to the ridgetop, he was a zombie. Sore feet and a tired mind were taking their toll. As he perked up, my spirits fell: I misjudged the distance to the next …

Today, I started to hate hiking. I knew that wasn’t a good thing, but I couldn’t help myself. It had not been a good night. Chased by thunderstorms across a stone-studded landscape, I finally collapsed after a dozen miles onto a log. “I can’t go any farther,” I told John. The pain in my foot …

Standing in the historic museum in downtown Palmerton, discussing zinc mining with the volunteer whose family had deep roots in the area, I thought I saw a ghost, a reflection in the front window. “It’s August!” John said, and I realized the apparition was a thru-hiker we’d met in Duncannon and several times thereafter. I …

“Why are you here?” We were finishing up dinner at the 501 Shelter when Coach popped the question. I laughed. That’s the question John and I asked hikers all along our journey. More often than not, they were standard replies. “I was bored and had no job prospects,” “I just got out of college so …

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been off the trail now for two months.  Life has a way to quickly pull you back into the “reality” of “normal.” I adjusted back more quickly than Sandy did.  After walking for months, driving the rental car was a “welcome back to the real world” slap in the …

Every day I find myself thinking about our time on the AT, slowly realizing that you don’t have to do a thru-hike to have the trail change you. With only a quarter of it behind us, I feel different.  Simple things are appreciated, like turning on the faucet for water.  Being inside on stormy days.  …

I look out across the water watching the turtles, fish and birds. The tall pines and oak trees sway in the breezes. On the porch I hear the hollow sounds of the bamboo wind chimes and watch the prayer flags flap in the wind. All the while, I’m gathering up the gear for our new …