Halloween on the Appalachian Trail

At the end of October, we headed to Maryland for two weekends of hiking, hoping that we could complete the 40 miles of trail there over four days. On the first day, Halloween, we headed out from Wolfsville Road and hiked up to Pen Mar, just below the Pennsylvania state line, where I had hiked north from in September. We traveled up with two cars so we would not need a shuttle, and left one parked at Pen Mar before heading down to Wolfsville and heading out. It was a beautiful, relatively warm day. There was still a broad mix of leaves on the trees, with some turned deep red, and yellow, while others were still mostly green. We spotted some interesting fungus and kept up a good pace. 

The trail had a couple good rises to climb, but the trail was mostly rock free and easy walking except a portion coming down from the High Rock overlook, where it was mostly loose rock and picking our way over the rubble pile. But compared to what we had done earlier in Pennsylvania for miles and miles, I barely remembered it by the next day. The weather was clear, bright, and warm, promising summer rather than winter. We started later than I would have liked, because I prefer to allow myself the option of going a mile an hour, and finishing before dark. I am usually faster though, so we were able to keep up the pace and only had to pull out the headlamp for the last twenty minutes on trail. Fortunately by that time, we had reached a wide carriage lane, or old logging road, and the trail was level and clear of any major tripping obstacles. 

It was lovely since it wasn't too cold, to finish Halloween walking pleasantly along and having the full moon come up. As we came up to the park, there is a large covered shelter that overlooks the valley below, and we went up to look at the view, and spooked a couple of cats relaxing there. Then I turned off the headlamp and let the moon light us along the paved pathway to the parking lot where our car was waiting. A good hike, 10.78 miles.  

The next day we hopscotched south and hiked north to Wolfsville road from the Annapolis Rocks trailhead near I-70. This was an uphill climb into heavy fog and sporadic, light rain. All flat and easy along the ridgetop except for a brief Rocksylvania type section. It was a set taken directly from Sleepy Hollow, and spoke Halloween in every way that Saturday's sunny hike had not. It was silent and wonderful. Not a world or weather I would want to live in, but dream like to wander for a day. Along the trail we met a pair of women with wet hair and damp clothes, disoriented from missing a trail turn off. The weather was 50F, but in those conditions risky. We helped, along with another hiker, point them on the way to a trail out. They were in phone contact with a family memeber who was driving to pick them up, and although we offered some food and a hot hands said they were good and comfortable to hike the extra miles. A friendly reminder to bring a map, and some emergency weather gear. We are hiking with guthooks on one phone and Alltrails on the other. a compact rain jacket or an emergency blanket can be life saving in what might seem like mild weather. After that, our day was uneventful, and the fog finally cleared towards the end of our hike was we climbed through a small rocky pass and started the descent to the road where the extra car was parked. This is where Jake's hip started to hurt him with every step. So we had to go slowly, and tried some side stepping and backwards walking where flat to ease the strain. It seems he likely has some bursitis in his hip, so we'll have to give it rest for it to heal, and also work on better stretching and strength training at home. The last half mile took us an hour, and I am so glad he made it through most of the hike first. 9.7 miles total. 

A Woman Hiking Alone

Dissatisfied with the current pandemic safety risks with getting an Uber to shuttle back to our car, for the second weekend of our Appalachian Trail soft start we decided to provide our own shuttle by hiking separately.  One of us has longer legs, and therefore naturally hikes faster. That isn't me. So, the most reasonable way for us to avoid Jake having a long wait at the trailhead, I would drop him off at the start of our hike, and drive to the other end, park, and hike towards him, then after swapping keys midway, he would drive back to the starting trailhead and pick me up, probably getting there before me. We decided to do these as day hikes, rather than doing an overnight, where we would only meet each other in camp. 

The first day we hiked eight miles from the park at Pen Mar to the Rattlesnake Gap road, just past the Old Forge Picnic Grounds. I dropped Jake at Rattlesnake to hike south, while I went to Pen Mar and headed north. It was far too many days after this when I realized that Pen Mar is like Texarkana and is a blended name of the two states we straddled on this hike. My mind was on other things. Mainly, hiking alone. 

It's not strange to hike the AT alone. according to The Treks 2019 Poll over 60% of long distance hikers start out that way. The advantages are everything that appeals to the rugged individualist. The solitude to think. Setting your own pace. Stopping and listening and hearing nothing at all. Smiling at the little secret things that only you will see, the leaf falling in the path, the birds head half tilted to watch you, a bug scurrying across the trail. And for that I was excited. I have, by my own estimation, never hiked such a distance completely alone. I often volunteer at a local trailhead, and typically walk it to check its condition, but that's just a few miles. I definitely wandered the rural area around my childhood home, but probably never walked more than 4 miles in a day. So it felt good, deeply satisfying, to just get out there be on my own. 

Of course there is a flip side to this. Hiking alone has risks. Geographical, Animal, and Human.  Thankfully I am not a novice in the woods. I reflexively check for blazes to stay on trail and am attentive and intentional when stepping off trail for mother nature. Animals aren't too high of a risk in this region or this time of year. Bears are mainly a risk in camp, snakes at other times of year. So that really just leaves the human component. We all know people are generally good. But we all know women have a particular concern anytime they want to go anywhere or do anything alone. We have basically taught men that rape is the natural act of a man against a woman who does not sufficiently protect herself. Men don't typically have to deal with this. Men who weigh less than me, they hike with impunity and never think about these things. They pitch tents, despite being all alone, near other, bigger, stronger men. They climb in, change clothes without thinking, and sleep without a knife at hand or any defensive plan. 

On this day I saw very few people. I had good cell service and checked in every mile to two with Jake. We crossed paths at my 3rd mile, his 5th (hey I did have to drive!). On the second day, we hiked a shorter distance and I spent most of it listening to an audio book and saw even fewer people, although I didn't have cell service for the most part. I never felt unsafe. But when a lone male hiker tried to get chatty in passing and stopped and took a step closer, I took a step back. He was only my size and a smiling, grey headed, fit grandpa type, something like Mike Pence, if he were not obviously a robot. People tend to think of this as "being afraid". You can't live your life in fear, say people who don't have to. But it isn't really fear. It's caution. You check for ticks and wear boots to protect bad ankles, and get vaccinated. Your pulse doesn't increase, your hackles don't go up, you don't struggle to sleep at night afterwards. You're taught to do it, or you learn, and then it's just part of your life's routine.

It's dumb to feel this way. It's dumb that things are this way. The odds are low, and that is true. But while 60% start out on the AT all alone, only 20% finish hiking most of the trail that way. People who don't start with a family member or friend usually pair up with some of the hikers they meet; they form a tramily. Companionship and safety in numbers. And while The Trek Doesn't break down these categories by gender, I would guess that women are more likely to start with someone else, and less likely to do the whole thing mainly alone. On top of that, only 40% of the long distance hikers in 2019 were women to begin with. The trail has other diversity issues. I can't speak to them personally. But it is silly, and wrong to assume people aren't on trail because any grouping of people "just don't want to" There are other factors at play. There probably always will be. 

So what is the takeaway? What can we do? On trail, really simply, we can respect people and give them their space. We can drop our egos and not take it personally. That man on the trail, when I stepped back, he stepped back, too. He might of thought I was maintaining my 6 feet, or he might have understood then, how it was with me. He didn't get mad, he didn't try to intimidate me. He didn't try to suggest he wasn't or couldn't be dangerous. He didn't hey baby/sweetheart/honey, he didn't make a face. He just stepped back, and smiled genuinely and told me to enjoy my hike and went on. 

 Ultimately, I loved both of these days, but my goal is not to be one of the hikers that does it all alone. I am happy with myself for getting out there and having a lovely weekend, but I do hope to hike most of the trail with my husband. For our next adventure we hope to take two cars and set them up at either end of whatever section we tackle next.  

Next week it's all about how I came to the decision to do the hike, set a date, and my "easy" first backpacking trip towards that goal. 

Socially Distanced Trailhead Access on the Appalachian Trail

 

Last month I logged my first official Appalachian Trail miles in our Covid adapted 2021 thru hike. One of the biggest challenges to doing the hike during a pandemic is simply how to handle getting on and off the trail. This is especially true as we do a soft start, and are likely only going to do weekend or simply day hikes as we are able through the winter, until the weather warms up a bit again. 

Even during a traditional thru, hikers needs to get off trail and into towns for food resupply about every week. They also take advantage of civilization's modern conveniences like heating and air conditioning, showers, and fresh vegetables (beer is a vegetable right?) This is normally accomplished thanks to a great trail community, whether people who offer paid shuttle services, a willingness to pickup hitch hikers, cab services, or uber/lyft. 

While some of these folks are still out there operating, it was something I wanted to avoid. It's too close, often for too long for my own comfort levels. I don't want to get sick on trail, and difficulty breathing with a lengthy recovery of months could be a deal breaker. 

Still, our first weekend out, we did plan to try it out. Full disclosure, despite a fair amount of travel in a lot of different places, we've never used Uber or Lyft or similar. We had downloaded and set up Uber once, but never used it. We settled on parking the car at the start of our weekend hike, and having only Jake Uber back to the car. This would minimize the interaction, and ensure he could sit as far from the driver as possible.

In the end, we decided to actually call an Uber Saturday night rather than camping overnight. It wasn't that I was too worn out or that we weren't prepared to camp (we both hiked with full gear). It was mainly that I didn't realize the shelter was just half a mile onward from a popular trailhead parking area and I was afraid the shelter area itself would be full of people, combined with the fact that we'd left our car parked in a high traffic spot, just right off an interstate exit on a major highway (not my favorite situation), combined with the additional and important fact that it was gonna be 39 degrees that night and I'm a giant baby when it comes to the cold. Our sleeping bags are not new, and are comfortable to 40, technically. So we called an Uber Saturday night and Sunday night. Both times Jake rode behind the passenger seat, and everyone was masked. The first driver kept the windows partly down and didn't talk much. The second driver was chatty and windows up. Overall, it felt risky to me. And there were other drawbacks. Both times, the wait for the driver, trip to the car, and Jake's return took about an hour and twenty minutes. And of course, Uber isn't free. Between both trips with a decent tip, the total was about $40. Not ideal.

So for the second weekend, we thought we might rent a car instead, so we could hike from our car to that car and ride back together. This was a lot more expensive than I wanted, nearly $150 for a Saturday AM pickup and Sunday PM drop off,. Not at all sustainable to do regularly. And not likely something that would always be doable depending on our locations and distances, and especially if we do a multiday hike. Add to this, we still had to do a fair amount of extra driving to the car rental location. We went ahead and reserved free online, but when we showed up, there were a lot of people, employees and customers, sort of scattered everywhere, social distancing, fortunately, and waiting their turn, but, having spent months in major isolation, it felt overwhelming to me. So, instead of picking up the car, we cancelled the reservation. Which was also a financial relief. This option is likely never going to work for us. 

So what else could we do? We only had one car. We do hope to hit other, closer to home sections by driving two cars and parking at either end, but this weekend, that wasn't an option. 

So what we decided to do instead is what I will call crosswalk, until someone wants to tell me an actual term, if there is one. We hiked separately from opposite ends of a section, and met in the middle for lunch and an exchange of car keys. I feel overall positive about the experience, but there are definitely limitations. I will share more next week. 

If there is an alternative method to do this you can think of, let me know in the comments! I am all ears. 

Georgia To Maine

This past month of September my husband and I began our soft start to thru hiking the Appalachian Trail. We have long intended to hike the trail "eventually" and in 2016 we decided that 2021 would be our year. Jake's 40th birthday year, it just seemed like a great fit. Since then, he had toe surgery, and I had a very nasty ankle injury that led to arthritis, in my knee too. Recovery over 2019 had been slow, but we started out 2020 feeling pretty good about our goal, with a likely start mid March the next year. 

Then 2020 developed and those plans were looking very questionable. the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) which protects and manages the national scenic trail, closed the trail, to the extent they are able (the trail land is owned by a variety of entities, and travels through multiple states after all) and stopped issuing the numbered thru hiker permits, an often coveted souvenir. Many hikers left the trail. Some did not. But what does that mean for 2021? Practically everyone across a variety of forums wanted to know. But whether it would lead to more crowding next year, or whether it too, might be canceled, is anyone's guess. 

All we really had were a lot of what if scenarios. Hiking a 2200 mile trail, over a course of 5 months, would require us to leave our jobs, hopefully rent our home, and maybe at some point, you know, shave my head. Not small decisions, nor easily reversible. Add to that complexity, Jake had just changed jobs, starting his new position in February, and on a contract basis. how long would it last? what would happen to the economy? Was it reckless to voluntarily leave a job next spring? 

So, after a lot of back and forth about potential ideas, including just putting it off until possibly 2022, we finally settled to move forward as flexibly as possible. Which leads me to a soft start in September. 

We are mainly able to work remote, except I do babysit dogs regularly. Did I want to abandon my clientele if this turned out to be a no go? Not really. So, instead, we resolved to start blocking weeks that were unbooked 4-6 weeks ahead, and getting on the trail in those downtime weekends. Jake could still work thanks to the magic of wifi and mobile hotspots during the week. 

So on September 19th we got on the Appalachian Trail and spent 2 weekends hiking, one at a section at the top of Pennsylvania, and one at the bottom. Spending most of the midweek car camping in a nearby state park with good cell signal. Technically, a thru hike is just doing the whole trail in 12 months, so, if we finish next year by September 18th, these could count towards a thru. It wouldn't be traditional, but the hiker communities favorite refrain is HYOH: Hike your own hike. And this is mine. 

Of course if everything goes swimmingly and we start full time, just when we want, in spring with the blessing of the ATC, then we might well just rehike these sections. but if that is delayed, hopefully these miles will help us reach our goals. And worse case: there is no better place to train than on the actual trail, and we'll gain the experience and muscle for a traditional go in a later year. 

There are lots of topics I want to share, and I will blog about them soon, Gear, social distancing logistics, Rocksylvania, food, cold season hiking plans and more. If you have any questions or ideas, let me know! I have spent far too much time reading about the Appalachian Trail over the years, so I'm ready to answer your questions. 

In the meantime, check my posts and highlights real over on Instagram for too many pictures.