In 1986, a few days after running the Boston Marathon, and following a year of touring the US and Canada in a campervan, I set off by train to realise a dream to walk the Appalachian Trail. I first heard about the Trail from the American wife of a work colleague in Melbourne a few years earlier and had since read widely about the trail. The Trail follows the crest of the Appalachian Mountains for more than 2,200 miles along the eastern side of the US. Starting in mid-spring, I followed the trail northwards from Springer Mountain in Georgia to its northern terminus at Mount Katahdin in Maine, finishing in the late summer. It remains one of the most meaningful experiences of my life, fostering an ambition for more such experiences and inspiring me to retire from work early enough follow through on that ambition. In 1986, only about 80 people each year completed the whole trail, but during that year National Geographic did a feature article on the Trail and its popularity increased dramatically.

Appalachian Trail - Day 016

Day:  016
Date:  Sunday, 18 May 1986
Daily AT Miles:  19.3
Daily Other Miles:  0
Total AT Miles:  289.3
Total All Miles:  299.8
Weather:  Sunny and hot in the morning.  Cloudy, humid, thunderstorms and rain in the afternoon.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Chocolate milk.
  Lunch:  Biscuits and peanut butter, health bar.
  Dinner:  Spaghetti, instant pudding.
Aches:  Hot spots on feet.
Animals Seen:  Grouse with about eight chicks, tortoise.
People Seen:  Some in town, one overnight hiker.

Journal:
Got up at 7:20am after a bad night’s sleep.  Ate too much yesterday.  Decided to just have chocolate milk for breakfast and threw out almost two litres of Coke, some chips and a pint of milk.  I left soon after 8am and posted some letters on the way out of town.  I was very worried about the repaired boot and kept checking it.  There was a tough climb out of town up to Lovers Leap on a steamy morning and I was soaked in sweat.  There was a good view over the town.  After about three miles my left foot suddenly felt loose in the boot (my good boot!).  It had come apart.  Swear words!  Should I return to town and get Marj to post the new boots to Hot Springs?  It would take until Tuesday.  I didn’t really want to waste three days, so spent an hour gluing the left boot back together.  I set off gingerly.  I decided I could hitch a ride back into Hot Springs from the road I would cross in about five miles if the boots were bad.  They seemed OK as I passed through pastureland and next to an old dam.  I surprised a grouse nesting, apparently, on the Trail.  Mother and chicks took off in all directions except for one that stayed.  I crossed the road – boots still OK.  The Trail now passed through forest with no views and occasional hills.  Suddenly, the left boot began coming apart again.  Curses.  I changed to the old Brooks sneakers and decided to keep going to Damascus, 170 miles away.  I hope the Brooks and feet last.  I stopped at Spring Mt Shelter for lunch and read the first hut register for a long time.  Not many in front, but a couple are “religos” leaving religious messages in the register.  I made my own entry in the register and set off, now aiming for 20 miles for the day instead of 26 because of the time wasted on boots.  There was some thunder and intermittent rain and drizzle in the afternoon.  I arrived at Little Laurel Shelter just before 5pm.  No one else was there and I went and filled my water bottles at a trickle spring, during which time it began raining heavily.  Fortunately, I had already got some dry firewood to add to that already in the Shelter.  The rain stopped after an hour and I cooked dinner. I had a relaxed evening and went to bed at 9pm, cursing the boots.
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