When you do something poorly the first time, you sometimes want to try it again. As the next school year began I couldn’t help but recall how we had been planning our hike in the White Mountains this time last year. Even though the memories of the Whites were still fresh in my mind, I felt this desire, almost need, to get back out there. A former student and athlete, who I had coached in cross-country, had thru hiked in 2000. After listening to (trail name Jeremiah Johnson) talk about the trail to one of my classes, I knew that I had to give the AT another try. He spoke of covering the entire 42 mile stretch of Maryland in one day as some sort of challenge. As a distance runner, this seemed like something I could do. After all, I had read that Maryland was the easiest (not a term that really ever applies to the AT) state.

So without hesitation I approached my buddies about hiking Maryland as soon as the ’01-’02 school year concluded.  This time it was I, not Alton, who did most of the planning. For the entire fall I spent time convincing the others that we needed to give hiking one more try. So in late May of 2002, five of us (Fitts’ truck broke down before we left GA) set out in two SUV’s for Harper’s Ferry, WV. I had even arranged for a stay in a real AT hostel (Sandy Hook) the night before we were to begin our southbound trek from Pen Mar Park at the PA/Maryland border.

Like the previous year in the Whites, that first day was an ordeal despite the “easier” terrain. After a night at a shelter some 9 miles in, Doc, Reg, and Lindsey decided that hiking definitely was not for them. They hitched a ride back to the vehicle and opted for a tour of Gettysburg. Alton and I trudged on, determined to complete the entire 42 miles, even though we had already decided that this was a three day hike, not a one or two day one.  Our buddies, before deserting us, did offer to carry some of our gear to the Dahlgren campsite, where we planned to set up our tent (yep, still the 4 man one) the second night. We didn’t know what slackpacking meant at that time; however, over the years, “slackpacking” has become one my favorite hiking terms.

Day three took us into Harper’s Ferry and to the end of that year’s hiking adventure. Since Maryland was complete, over the next few years, Alton and I continued the section hiking, knocking off a state here and a state there. Fitts even joined us for the section from Springer to Neel’s Gap during spring break, 2003.  Alton has completed more sections than I have and has promised to complete his section hike with me in Maine, if I make it that far. That would be pretty special—Alton completing the AT section hiking at the same time I completed a thru hike, on Katahdin together. If nothing else, it should make for some interesting journaling over that last 300 miles.

In the fall of 2000, a fellow teaching buddy, Alton, decided that he and some of his friends (myself included) should begin taking some “adventure trips.”  Since most of us were about to turn 50, or just had, Alton thought that a backpacking trip in the late spring of 2001 was just what we needed.  For this first trip he chose as our destination some place up in New England called the White Mountains. I had heard of the Rockies, the Smokies, the Adirondacks, and even the Green Mountains of Vermont, but quite honestly, I didn’t know much about the Whites.

For the next several months Alton meticulously outlined details for our excursion. After weeks of reading a variety of informative “what to and how to” literature, he provided each member of the backpacking group with folders containing an itinerary, maps, a list of supplies needed, and a discourse on the much dreaded black fly of New Hampshire. Doc, Reg, Alton and I (the already or about to be 50 year olds) and Fitts and Lindsey (20 something’s) eagerly (yeah, right) awaited the end of the school year and our trek up to the northeast.

The flight from Atlanta to Boston and the subsequent van journey to Lincoln, NH proved uneventful. The next morning, we set out near Franconia Notch with great enthusiasm. Our first day goal was about a 12 mile hike that would culminate at the Guyout campsite off the AT. We made it to our destination, but along the way we learned much about backpacking like…..it’s not a good idea to bungee gear to your pack, don’t plan to camp at a site .7 miles off the trail, taking turns carrying the two 4 man tents does not diminish the weight of the tents, check to find out if fires are allowed before purchasing steaks to pack in to cook over campfires, and lastly, visit a physician before beginning the hike if you’re 50, slightly overweight, and have never hiked in the Whites  (Reg).

Alton and I, who were the only two of the group really in shape, were the first to arrive at the campsite. We were greeted by a young female caretaker who gazed on our appearances with what might have been considered utter amazement that we were still standing. I still remember declaring to this young lady that this was our first backpacking trip and that it was about to be the first night I had ever spent in a tent.  And I unabashedly added, “And I just turned 50 two weeks ago.”  She was not impressed.  When she asked, “Why did you choose the Whites,” neither of us could think of a good reason.

About two hours later, shortly after dark, the rest of the gang arrived, and they were a pitiful looking bunch. The caretaker graciously offered to boil us some water for our MRE’s after telling us that campfires were not permitted. After our meals, we settled in to our tents.  Alton, Fitts, and I shared one; Doc, Reg and Lindsey the other.  I slept very poorly that “first night in a tent.”  If I had brought a sleeping bag, it might have been better.

The next morning six very sore hikers (yes, we were hikers now) awoke to near freezing temperatures. To warm up we began that .7 mile trek from the Guyout campsite back to the trail that would take us southbound on the AT up to South Twin and then down to Galehead Hut. Before reaching the AT, however, Reg declared that he couldn’t make it and actually asked the caretaker if he could be airlifted out.  When she informed him that the only type of rescue that was available was for him to be carried out, he opted to accept her suggestion that she carry his 60 pound pack to Galehead for him. Reg smiled broadly sitting atop a rock on South Twin, packless, as the rest of the group arrived. As we  continued down what some have called one of the toughest miles on the AT from South Twin to Galehead, I prayed feverishly that I wouldn’t break a leg and made one of those deals with God that if  “He would just get me out of these mountains safely…”

After a night at the 13 Falls campsite, on a trail off the AT, we finally made it back to Lincoln. For days, every time I closed my eyes I saw giant rocks. This was one adventure that I would never attempt again. I was a runner, not a hiker. I didn’t even like camping or sleeping in a tent. This would definitely be my last backpacking trip. But alas, it wasn’t.  Over the next twelve years since that first taste of the AT, I would section hike over 1000 miles of the trail and now actually own a sleeping bag. So, twelve years later, I plan to arrive at Springer in March, a little older, and much more knowledgeable about backpacking, to attempt (and I do say attempt) a thru hike.

My goal is obviously to reach Katahdin, but along the way I have some other goals I hope to achieve as well. One of those goals is to record a daily entry into my journal, detailing as accurately as possible what it’s like out on the trail.  Other goals I’ll share in future prep entries and as I hike. Among other things, I’m looking for an adventure. And I think the AT just might provide one for me.