By Jennifer Fulford<\/p>\n
Bucket lists irritate me. They are awful reminders that one day all this ends, and that say, \u201cHey kid, you\u2019d better get on with the doing.\u201d I\u2019d prefer to think of each day as a fresh opportunity. Wouldn\u2019t it be nice to try something new? Something really challenging besides the latest phone app?<\/p>\n
Shortly after moving to Asheville in 2003, the idea of hiking the Appalachian Trail (a.k.a. the A.T.) landed in my lap. A local newspaper published a story about a young woman who hiked the entire 2,189-mile trail while wearing a skirt. A woman, bold on the trail, thumbing her nose at convention. Right on!<\/p>\n
Then books migrated onto my nightstand about the courageous and half-delusional bravehearts who tackled various physical (and psychological) outdoor challenges. First was Shooting the Boh<\/i> by Tracy Johnston, who took a grueling raft trip of premenopausal self-discovery through the Amazon with a crew of much younger companions. And then there was Zoro\u2019s Field <\/i>by Thomas Rain Crowe, a memoir about living off the grid in the Appalachians. I particularly enjoyed Walk in the Woods<\/i> by Bill Bryson, a journalist whose self-deprecating humor about his mid-life trek on the A.T. had me spitting up coffee. I also read several other books of similarly daunting experiences.<\/p>\n
With the exception of Crowe, a theme seemed to run through my reading list: the protagonists\u2019 na\u00efvet\u00e9 prior to their extreme adventures. Mentally and physically, a good time was not had by all. If the A.T. is calling me, especially as my birthday counter approaches 50, it\u2019s going to require preparation and research.<\/p>\n
Luckily, Asheville is flush with experienced athletes who know how to hike safely and are more than happy to describe what a starry-eyed hopeful may not want to hear, which is no secret. The A.T. is not for the soft-bellied or the cavalier. In other words, couch surfers or couch potatoes should definitely go to the gym first.<\/p>\n
Ask Brenda Worley, who organizes day-long group hikes for Carolina Mountain Club (CMC) and has been hiking sections of the A.T. for 20 years. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t necessarily take a first-time hiker. They\u2019d need to start with a half-day or five-mile hike.\u201d<\/p>\n
Fortunately, CMC (carolinamountainclub.org) offers group hikes for all skill levels and ages. As for the most important rules of the trail, Brenda hardly takes a breath to answer. \u201cAlways make sure someone knows where you are going. My husband knows exactly where we are.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pitfalls are plentiful. Terrain, rough. Animals, wild. Resources, scarce. Cell service, spotty. Cell service? Should a hiker even bother to bring a cell phone?<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d says Brenda, \u201cso if you had an emergency, you might be able to get a call out. We\u2019d send someone to the top of the mountain because you can sometimes get service.\u201d<\/p>\n
As does CMC, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (appalachiantrail.org) focuses on trail issues and hiker outreach. Both nonprofits participate in trail maintenance and are keen about hiker education. Not everyone who sets foot on the A.T. is going the distance. The majority of trail patrons are day hikers, those with a picnic lunch. And then there are the multiday hikers or section-hikers, backpackers bent on accumulating miles but in small chunks. Finally, there are the thru-hikers, upwards of 2,500 determined folks who start the footpath each spring, trying to hike from Georgia to Maine in one shot by autumn.<\/p>\n
Since 2001, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy has published a free guide for the curious. Although far from being a technical how-to manual (the group has eleven guidebooks for that), it contains a thorough online checklist and insights into the trail\u2019s mysteries. For instance, some sections of the A.T. in northern New England are situated above the tree-line trees on mountaintops, and many slopes are extreme. September Mihaly of Durham, who thru-hiked the A.T. in 2006, says fellow hikers joked about the steep climbs, but she found other conditions less optimal, such as rainy days that could drown even the most determined spirit.<\/p>\n
\u201cI felt like the hardest parts were through Pennsylvania because it rained all the time. So you\u2019d just be in ankle-high water all day long, for day after day. Stuff never dries out anymore. You\u2019re boots never dry, and you\u2019ve slipped off a few toenails. So that was rough,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
Besides weather, hikers must prepare for boulder-size rocks, voracious insects, and wilderness conditions. Pack a compass and know how to read it. But according to hikers, the trail is a mental game. It\u2019s not about equipment, how little or how much to take or what kind. A more pertinent conversation to start before striking out concerns fortitude. Only one person knows your limits.<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw strong people drop out. I saw people who I never thought would make it, make it,\u201d says September. \u201cI remember at one point, we were standing on a mountain \u2026 just me and four other people, and we get our first clear view of Katahdin, way off in the distance, and we\u2019re sitting on a rock eating a snack, and we\u2019re talking about how pointless it is. There\u2019s no point to it. But we\u2019re smiling, and we\u2019re laughing. It is<\/i> pointless. But the people who thought it was pointless and despaired, they went home. And the people who said it was pointless and joyful, summitted.\u201d<\/p>\n
Which leads to the deeper question: Why do it? And that answer isn\u2019t online, in a book, or available from the dude\u2014or the young woman in the skirt\u2014who just left the trail. I am still trying to answer that question for myself.<\/p>\n