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 027

Day:  027
Date:  Thursday, 29 May 1986
Daily AT Miles:  24.7
Daily Other Miles:  0.3 (to Trimpi Shelter)
Total AT Miles:  514.1
Total All Miles:  529.7
Weather:  Partly cloudy, warm.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Muesli, health drink.
  Lunch:  Biscuits and peanut butter, health bar.
  Dinner:  Biscuits and peanut butter, instant pudding, scroggin (gorp).
Aches:  Both heels.
Animals Seen:  Chipmunks, squirrels, cows.
People Seen:  One AT Thru-Hiker

Journal:
MY WORST DAY!  I got up at 6am but, because of the time taken to tend feet – particularly the left – didn’t get away until 8:20am.  I could hardly bear to put on my left boot, but decided to give it a go.  A mile was enough.  The pain was too great so I put the old Brooks sneakers back on and the heavy water-logged boots in the pack, making it quite heavy.  Even with the Brooks on, the foot hurt a lot and progress was slow.  A pity because the scenery was pleasant to the eye and the grades gentle. There were lots of blooms including many rhododendrons.  As I walked I occasionally listened to my radio and mulled over what to do about the shoe situation.  I was afraid the boots had damaged my Achilles tendon internally, and bruised it at least, ao I didn’t think I could wear them again.  The Brooks sneakers weren’t going to last much longer so I decided some replacement running shoes might be best.  I decided to ring Mark and Fran, friends in Washington, to buy some shoes and mail them to Pearisburg.  There was supposed to be a phone at the Mt Rogers National Recreation Area HQ as well as water, so I decided to make for there for the night.  As the day passed I was feeling very drained and, I guess, stressed as to my foot’s prospects.  The tiredness could have been related to a lack of sleep the night before, the extra weight in my pack (full water bottles and wet boots), the warmer weather, or awkward walking style.  I stopped for a late lunch at Trimpi Shelter where I was bothered by mosquitoes.  I pushed on after lunch and met a southbound AT Thru-Hiker (taking two years), Tom Burns, and stopped and talked to him for 20 minutes or so.  Enjoyable, but making me even later.  Progress remained slow and I finally reached the NRA HQ at 8pm.  I rang Fran, who was obviously pleased to hear from me, and we talked for nearly 30 minutes.  By the time I found the water tap, filled up and walked to a camp area about 300 yards back along the Trail.  My feet were very sore and required treatment, yet I wasted the last 15 minutes of daylight unsuccessfully trying to get a rope over a tree bough to string my food up (to protect it from bears).  In the end I gave up and washed, treated feet as best I could, and had a cold dinner in the dark by the light of my little penlight.  Movement was very painful and I wondered what tomorrow held.  Maybe I would just hike to the highway, 10 miles away, and put up in the motel there for the rest of the day.  Despite the stuffing around and the belief I would never get to bed, I did so at 10:30pm and found it very comfortable.  I put the food bag in the tent.  At about 1am, I was awakened by the sound of some animal snorting and crashing around not too far away.  Deciding that it could be a bear, I got up and moved the food bag about 10 yards away from my tent and then was so tired went back to sleep without waiting to see what happened.
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