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 024

Day:  024
Date:  Monday, 26 May 1986
Daily AT Miles:  0
Daily Other Miles:  1.0 (around town).
Total AT Miles:  450.0
Total All Miles:  464.3
Weather:  Overcast and mild.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Ham and eggs, chocolate milk.
  Lunch:  Ham and cheese rolls, fudge brownie.
  Dinner:  Chicken and chips, ice-cream.
Aches:
Animals Seen:
People Seen:  Six AT Thru-Hikers, eight transcontinental cyclists, many others.

Journal:
I got up at 8:30am and went up to see if the grocery and laundry were open on Memorial Day.  They were, so I did my grocery shopping and rang Barb on my way back to the hostel.  After repacking my food I accompanied Mark and Stu up to the Douglass Inn where we had a good breakfast.  We returned to the hostel and I finished packing food before going up to the Laundromat wearing only my Goretex rain trousers and polypro top.  While the laundry was being done, I went next door to the grocery and bought a few items I had forgotten as well as some hot ham and cheese rolls for lunch.  On return to the hostel, I spent the afternoon chatting to the other residents and writing letters and cards.  During the afternoon, eight Bike-Centennial Transcontinental cyclists stopped at the hostel for the night.  They were unimpressed with the rooms and erected their tents outside.  “Greyhound”, the drunk-look-alike, returned after a day spent wandering around trying to find the AT north out of town.  Another south-bound AT hiker returned to the hostel after having been bitten by the same dog that bothered me on the way into town yesterday.  Mark’s parting entry in the register revealed that he had been on the run from the law for two years after his third drunk-driving offence.  He was going back to face the music after talking to the Methodist pastor.  A rum lot, these hikers – or so the cyclists told me when I joined them at the Douglass Inn during dinner.  I spent a very pleasant three hours talking with them, especially to Gene, a rich Canadian from Vancouver, Dave, a college undergrad from Detroit, and Diane, a 31 year old nurse from Des Moines who had run a 3:03 marathon.  I told her to get in touch with me if she wanted to come to Australia – she was interested.  I returned to the hostel at 10:30pm and chatted further with the hikers before going to bed at 11:15pm.  The cyclists returned about 11:45pm and made a lot of noise, keeping everyone awake.
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