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 072

Day:  072
Date:  Sunday, 13 July 1986.
Daily AT Miles:  18.8
Daily Other Miles:  0.3 (from Graymoors).
Total AT Miles:  1393.2
Total All Miles:  1437.8
Weather:  Foggy, rain and drizzle, mild.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Fruit, eggs and sausages, orange juice, donuts.
  Lunch:  None.
  Dinner:  Biscuits and peanut butter, instant pudding.
Aches:  None bad.
Animals Seen:  Deer, squirrels, groundhogs, rabbits.
People Seen:  2 day hikers, some others.

Journal:
Got up at 7:30am and, after a pleasant breakfast with the monks and Bob and Jenny, left Graymoors at 9am.  An interesting and worthwhile visit.  The weather was poor, fog and drizzle, and I altered my schedule for the next three days so I could stay in Shelters.  This meant an easy day today and a long one tomorrow.  I decided not to try and ring Clio from the Monastery because it was probably too early for her to know if she was going sailing or not.  I set off with a bit of indigestion from the enormous breakfast I had eaten.  It was drizzling, but not enough to warrant donning my Goretex jacket.  My feet were wet from yesterday’s socks and wet shoes and soon got wetter as I walked through sopping undergrowth.  Despite the wetness it was pleasant walking in the mild weather.  There were a few climbs, occasionally steep, but never that long, and no views because of the fog.  The area, as for the last few days, was historic with traces of farming, mining, etc., dating from the American Revolution.  There were lots of collapsed stone fences and the Trail occasionally followed old railway grades.  You could feel the history of the place.  The miles all seemed a little long, but I was doing it easy and, partly because of the indigestion, decided to forgo lunch (eating my perennial trail snack, “gorp” [sultanas, peanuts and M&Ms], instead), and reach my goal, Ralph’s Peak Hikers Cabin, a little earlier.  There was supposed to be a bike there, and a store a mile away, and I would have a big dinner there.  After climbing over Shenandoah, I descended to the well-marked cabin and arrived at 5:30pm. A note on the door said someone would open it at 6pm.  I sat and started the diary and a very friendly guy from the Club turned up at 5:50pm.  He told me the store was closed and there was nowhere to cook so I accepted that I was going to have a cold dinner but wasn’t too bothered.  The Cabin was well-furnished and promised to be cosy.  Soon after 6pm, thunder sounded and it began to rain heavily.  I was glad I hadn’t stopped for lunch.  I had a cold dinner and wrote the diary by candlelight.
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