Ten years ago this minute I was sitting in a small lean-to in the Georgia Mountains, with six months of hiking yawning before me. One day previous my friend Jimmy had given me a ride from Charlottesville down to Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, and set out to walk to Maine. We had a hard time finding a hotel that would rent to a couple of 17-year-olds, but we eventually managed. The next morning we navigated our way through gravel roads until we found a parking lot. I struggled to pull on my 72 pound frame pack and together we walked along the trail to the marker indicating the beginning of the trip.
I did just a few miles that day, meeting three fellow thru hikers (as such extreme long-distance backpackers are known) who I’d come to know in the coming months. Days, weeks and months ticked by as I put the miles behind me. Georgia. Tennessee. North Carolina. The neverending miles that are Virginia. Come Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia I’d broken both of my feet — stress fractures — and had to take some time to heal. (That was when a schoolmate, Amber, rang me out of the blue and invited me to accompany her family to the beach for a week. She’s now my wife.) I got back on the trail after a month spent healing, though I had to start again up in New Hampshire, in order to make up for the lost time. I walked from Mt. Washington to Mt. Katahdin, Maine, ending up as one of the last people to summit that year, just before the snows started. I broke both of my feet in the Hundred Mile Wilderness, a couple of weeks before finishing, but I decided to bear it so I could reach Katahdin. I badly damaged my feet in the process.
I had to stop for the cold of winter, but come spring I started again in Harper’s Ferry, continuing where I’d left off. I broke them both again after a few weeks, took some time to heal, and hit the trail again.
By the end I’d managed to hike nearly all of the trail. I’m only missing a few hundred miles now. My feet remain broken or, at least, very badly healed. I haven’t finished the Appalachian Trail, though I intend to do so as soon as I figure out what to do about my feet.
The thing about not having finished is that it’s a chapter in my life that I can’t close. I’ve started something that my body hasn’t let me finish. It was supposed to be a six-month trip, something that I could do and then move on. Instead, one of the biggest things that I’ve ever attempted is something uncompleted.
In those months of walking, I learned a lot. I learned about self-sufficiency. About gumption. About who I am. And I learned a lot about this country; it’s hard not to when you’ve seen so much of it, one step at a time. But the hardest lesson was — is — failure.
We all have big goals — our own Katahdins, as Dan Bruce calls them. For thru hikers our Katahdin is, in fact, Katahdin. Life is easy, because there’s only one goal. Off the trail, there are often no Katahdins. My Katahdin is still Katahdin, because I haven’t reached it yet, not fair and square. I suppose that makes my Katahdin Mt. Washington.
I have to wonder what my next Katahdin will be. I can only imagine.
Waldo, I so hope that you get to finish. 72 lbs. is way too much weight! I discovered the trail 5 or 6 years ago, and your information was the best resource out there at the time. And I always remember about your ankles and thinking at the time that you were pretty crazy.
Though a more modest goal, over those years I at least managed to do the Virginia portion on vacations and weekends, and not in order.
“Finishing” Virginia was a particularly beautiful experience. There was a shelter quite close to where I had left my car, but several paths converged right there, so I was very confused. Fortunately, a thru-hiker was at the shelter and he helped me figure out how to get out of there. Turns out he was legally blind.
Don’t remember the name of the shelter, but it’s north of Peaks of Otter and I think the name starts with a “p”. I could look it up, but finished is finished.
Now you’ve made me think about all of those wonderful people and experiences. Every single one of them had a very special story.
My favorite part was north of Pearisburg.
hey waldo-what did you do to your feet? Stress fx of what bones? I like all my creature comforts too much, could never get a pack below 40 lbs, emma and helen, http://www.billemory.com/AT/ATTXT/AT23.html, they are tough. Ended up being smart ass ultralight hikers, packs around 20 lbs. I want all my stuff when i stop, coffee, tent. stopping is my favorite part
Kath,
Could that have been Punchbowl Shelter? The one with all those frogs croaking in the nearby pond?
Skyline
Metatarsals. I don’t remember which metatarsals specifically, though. I just know it hurts like the dickens when I walk around without good arch support.
I’m with Helen and Emma—after my first injury I saw the light and now go ultralight. My summer pack is 17.2lbs plus 1lb/day of food, averaging about 21lbs. I don’t mind carrying a 72lb pack—it doesn’t slow me down particularly. But what with the foot-breaking, it’s clearly too much. I do very much like having a 21lb pack. That’s a wonderful way to go.
Waldo,
Your post brought back lots of fond memories. 1996 is the year I, too, count as my first year toward completing the entire AT. Despite some setbacks, I did just that in August 2003. I know how very much this unfinished business must mean to you, and I really hope you can make it happen. It becomes an obsession. Your online journal, especially of the first part of your hike on the AT in the South, is still one of the best-written IMHO. You had an ability, at age 17, to truly transport the reader to the woods and the entire thru-hiking experience.
You left out a couple of (methinks) important factoids in your post, however…
1) Though you started at a whopping 72# pack weight, you eventually travelled to the other extreme and indeed became what we would now call an ultralighter. Without knowing it at the time, you were a pioneer in this respect. Being willing to examine what isn’t working and make drastic adjustments is one of those lessons learned on the Trail that will serve you well in life. Especially in the world of politics.
2) Speaking of being a pioneer, your internet journal from the Trail–just 10 years ago–was one of the first. Look what you started! Or helped to start. On one website alone (there are many more), http://www.trailjournals.com, here are their stats this morning: “We currently have 123,025 journal entries, with over 1,396,703 miles of hiking, 131,537 trail photos, and 1,118 hikers in our directory.” Most significantly, you tried to push the envelope by doing it with a wireless hookup to your laptop–something your technology partners were not as clued in on as you were as it turned out.
Waldo,
Your post brought back lots of fond memories. 1996 is the year I, too, count as my first year toward completing the entire AT. Despite some setbacks, I did just that in August 2003. I know how very much this unfinished business must mean to you, and I really hope you can make it happen. It becomes an obsession. Your online journal, especially of the first part of your hike on the AT in the South, is still one of the best-written IMHO. You had an ability, at age 17, to truly transport the reader to the woods and the entire thru-hiking experience.
You left out a couple of (methinks) important factoids in your post, however…
1) Though you started at a whopping 72# pack weight, you eventually travelled to the other extreme and indeed became what we would now call an ultralighter. Without knowing it at the time, you were a pioneer in this respect. Being willing to examine what isn’t working and make drastic adjustments is one of those lessons learned on the Trail that will serve you well in life. Especially in the world of politics.
2) Speaking of being a pioneer, your internet journal from the Trail–just 10 years ago–was one of the first. Look what you started! Or helped to start. On one website alone (there are many more), http://www.trailjournals.com, here are their stats this morning: “We currently have 123,025 journal entries, with over 1,396,703 miles of hiking, 131,537 trail photos, and 1,118 hikers in our directory.” Most significantly, you tried to push the envelope by doing it with a wireless hookup to your laptop–something your technology partners were not as clued in on as you were as it turned out.
Skyline
How about saving a small Mexican village from the infamous El Guapo?
I’ll probably attempt a thruhike in four years. I still have time to serve. I’ve completed most of Virginia. Mt. Rogers through the end of the parkway. About half of the Shennandoah, and Snickers Gap to Harper’s Ferry. Mt Leconte to Fontana Dam is my favorite strech.
North of the Peaks is Matt’s Creek Shelter, John Hollow, Punchbowl, and the Priest to the Tye River. There’s a fancy double level shelter I stayed at around the Peaks, but I can’t remember the name. It was named after a young guy.
But hey, in four years, I’d love to get back out there. I’ll probably forgo the laptop and cell phone, but nothing comes close to serenity and peace as a sunset on Mt. Rogers, or a night sleeping under the stars along the banks of Tinker creek.
Get your feet taken care of and finish it. I know you must be dying inside.
Good luck,
Brandon
I just want to say the picture is HOT!!!!
Underfed 17-year-old backpacker photo is teh awesome!
Waldo, “finishing” the trail is an artificial goal. What you accomplished and what you endured was real and was more than proof of your mettle.
You were in the arena and gave it your all. That is what matters.
It may be hard for you to see, but trust me on this. Don’t risk your feet any more.
Lewis and Clark never found the NorthWest passage. Will’s right, you done good there, buckaroo.
WOT…Have you read Bill Bryson’s book? Every time I’m stuck listening to someone who just can’t get over themselves and can’t shut up, I’m innoculated thanks to A Walk in the Woods. I just chuckle and nod.
My degree is in law, not medicine. Common sense, however, suggests that those stress fractures were also a result of your ridiculous height! ;-)
Sure hope you avoided those extras from “Deliverance” while in Georgia!
As a matter of fact, portions of “Deliverance” were filmed along the AT in Georgia. The guidebook writer seems to take great pleasure in disclosing this to fresh-on-the-trail would-be thru-hikers. :)
I knew that. As it happens, when I was in law school, my single involvement in a criminal matter was aiding in the prosecution of a murder case in federal court in Rome. The defendant (Calvin Coolidge Millsaps, if you can believe it), the victim, the witnesses, and half of the jury pool looked like they had been extras in “Deliverance.”
Scary.
The shelter was Cornelius Gap. Well, it does end in a “p.” I didn’t stay the night at Punchbowl, but a person could easily live there.
For many years I had also believed “Deliverance” was partially filmed along the AT, but last year I did the Foothills Trail (about 75 miles along the SC/NC border, almost touching a piece of GA too). The locals there claim “Deliverance” as their own. They DO have a whitewater river along that trail that LOOKS like the one in the movie. The whole FT is definitely more remote than the AT. I’m not aware of a similar river along the AT in Georgia. So maybe they’re right.
Skyline