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 023

Day:  023
Date:  Sunday, 25 May 1986
Daily AT Miles:  25.8
Daily Other Miles:  1.0 (around Damascus)
Total AT Miles:  450.0
Total All Miles:  463.3
Weather:  Cloudy, continual rain showers, mild.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Muesli, health drink.
  Lunch:  Biscuits and peanut butter, Mars Bar.
  Dinner:  Chicken slaw, cheeseburger, chips, ice-cream.
Aches:  Occasional hip joint pain.
Animals Seen:  Grouse.
People Seen:  Five AT Thru-Hikers, eight overnight hikers, many others.

Journal:
Got up at 6am and left at 7:20am for the 26 mile walk into Damascus.  It was gloomy and threatened rain.  I told Mark I would see him there.  The Trail was relatively level and I made good time along the ridge though the views weren’t up to much.  It began raining mid-morning but I pushed on in good spirits and enjoyed listening to my Walkman.  Because of the rain, I pushed on to Abingdon Gap Shelter for lunch and arrived at 1pm leaving me only 10 miles to go in the afternoon after 16 in the morning.  After lunch I walked down into Damascus on mostly gentle grades in continuing showers and arrived in town at about 4:45pm.  As I walked down the main street, I met Stuart, another AT Thru-Hiker who was about a day ahead of me and was now waiting for John to arrive so they could team up.  He didn’t think there was a motel in town so I all but abandoned the idea and followed him to The Place, the Methodist-run hostel for AT hikers and trans-continental cyclists.  I was a bit taken aback at how run-down it was and the fact that there was a smoking drunk in the kitchen (who later turned out to be relatively sober, a “professional” AT hiker aka “Greyhound”, who had slurred speech).  Another resident was Tim aka “Marshmallow” who’d been there for two weeks while a stress fracture mended. The hostel was dirty, run-down, and the beds were moth-eaten pieces of foam runner on the floor.  Not very wholesome but the guys there seemed friendly enough and honest.  Mark, whom I’d met in Nolichucky, turned up by car having abandoned his Thru-Hike.  So there were a few despondent people there.  I resigned myself to the two nights and a day to be spent in The Place since tomorrow was Memorial Day and the Post Office would be closed.  I walked round the town a bit, had a chicken dinner at a diner and later came back for a cheeseburger to fill me up.  I wasn’t sure when I’d get breakfast tomorrow because the diner didn’t open until 10am.  Back at The Place I chatted with the other residents and did some schedule planning before retiring about 10:40pm.
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