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 108

Day:  108
Date:  Monday, 18 August 1986.
Daily AT Miles:  16.6
Daily Other Miles:  0
Total AT Miles:  2068.4
Total All Miles:  2126.4
Weather:  Mild, raining in the morning, overcast.
Nutrition:
  Breakfast:  Muesli, health drink.
  Lunch:  Burgers, fries, ice-cream.
  Dinner:  Biscuits and peanut butter, instant pudding, Mars Bar.
Aches:  None bad.
Animals Seen:  Squirrels.
People Seen:  7 overnight hikers, many others.

Journal:
Got up at 5am and left at 6:20am after it had rained heavily during the night and was forecast to rain again during the day.  I had 10½ miles to do by 11am to meet the Cocks’ family as arranged.  It seemed to be an easy task, but the rough Trail and wet slippery conditions slowed progress considerably.  After an hour it began to rain steadily and soon I was soaked through.  The forest was mossy and pretty, but cloud and rain prevented any views.  I eventually reached the St Regis Paper Company Logging Road, where I was to meet the Cocks’, in light rain and 55 minutes late.  They weren’t there, but there seemed nothing to do but wait.  I sat on a bridge in the drizzle and ate my gorp, wet, but not unhappy.  After 30 minutes, the Cocks’ arrived.  It was good to see them all.  They suggested we drive into a nearby town and eat at a restaurant out of the rain, so I hid my pack and joined them (still soaking wet) in their Volvo.  We drove about 18 miles to Brownville Junction where we found a really nice diner and had a very pleasant hour chatting and catching up on news – me still in my raincoat.  At about 2:30pm, we left and they drove me back to the Trail where I resumed walking at 3pm and they set off for the long drive back to Boston.  It was still over 13 miles to go to my target Shelter, but there was one six miles away so I decided to go there non-stop and see how the time was. It had stopped raining, but everything was soaking wet and a number of streams had to be forded.  There was also a new “relo”, which slowed things a little, but I reached the Shelter, Carl Newhall, at 5:20pm to find Jerry and another hiker there already.  It would be too late to try for the next Shelter, so I decided on an early night.
By

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)