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 Long Walk, A decision

It’s one of those things you talk about doing: a great adventure. You read a book about it, and it inspires you to dream. For years, it is talk. Then one day, you set a date; You will do this thing. You will walk this path. Since I was a teenager, I have wanted to put a boat in the river near my house and float with it all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico. The book to thank for that was Huckleberry Finn. I still haven’t set a date for that one, but it is on my list. 

But this is about the Appalachian Trail. Real knowledge or desire for the trail didn’t come to me until about 2011, when I read the book that so many people have, Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods. People who complete the AT are known as 2,000 milers, although the trail is longer than that. It travels the mountains from Georgia to Maine, and those with a will can follow it, walking north with the warming weather. Along the way people acquire a trail name, trail legs, and often a trail family, or tramily. They lose  weight, no matter what they eat, because it is hard work. 

Yet, it’s a mental challenge more than physical, everyone says. I don’t know. For me, it seems natural to spend all of summer in the woods. A joy and a dream to live and wake with the sun, walk in the rain, sleep the sleep of exhausted bliss. The real challenge will be to cover new ground each day, and never linger. A surprising number of people learn to camp and hike so they can do the trail. A few just try jumping in cold turkey. But for me the trail represents a socially acceptable opportunity to live the life of my heart.  I already love camping and hiking. I yearn to do it with wanderlust of an explorer, a vagabond, a nomad. 

We picked the year 2021 in 2016. It seemed far enough away to allow for some planning and learning. but not too far. Jake’s 40th birthday would be a fun milestone to celebrate on trail. And it would allow us plenty of time to have money saved to take the time off of work, too. 

I am an avid day hiker. But I am also a slow one. I could easily do a ten mile day, or sometimes more, but also don’t usually get up early enough, and ready soon enough, to fit that in. A typical day hike for me was four to eight miles. I had backpacked a handful of times as well, and had the basic gear: a ten year old backpack, worn low tech boots, and a tent big enough for two (assuming you really loved each other). Unfortunately, it had been years since we had done it. Lots of car camping though. 

Our plan then, was to start taking monthly overnight backpacking trips with the gear we had, and figure out what we needed and upgrade some things once we got much closer to our start date. And hopefully get our bodies used to carrying the weight. 

Next week I will share about that first return to backpacking, and how the intervening years went (not as planned!) Thanks for all the support, and liking/sharing these posts. Gearing up to get on trail again shortly!

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.