AWOL on the Appalachian Trail

by David Miller

Having a rough time on the trail is not the same as the irredeemable frustrations of urban life,

It’s the first time I’ve wavered from purist white-blazing, and I feel no guilt about it.

When they complete the AT, they will have accomplished the “triple crown” of backpacking, which also includes the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT: 2,658 miles) and the Continental Divide Trail (CDT: 2,764 miles). Both trails are less traveled than the Appalachian Trail.

With all their experience, they are in great hiking shape and are very efficient hikers. They plan well and stick to their plan. They don’t carry any more than is necessary.

Wisdom is knowing when perseverance will be rewarded.

The attitude of thru-hikers can be downright uppity when confronted with a significant tourist presence, such as it is here, in the Smokies, and concentrated around the huts of the White Mountains.

Wildlife is abundant.

Working a nine-to-five job took more energy than I had expected, leaving less time to pursue diverse interests.

Our vision becomes so narrow that risk is trying a new brand of cereal, and adventure is watching a new sitcom. Over time I have elevated my opinion of nonconformity nearly to the level of an obligation. We should have a bias toward doing activities that we don’t normally do to keep loose the moorings of society.

Not everyone needs to be a hiker, but using “not my thing” is too convenient. Activities that even momentarily cause discomfort, that don’t provide immediate positive feedback, are subtracted from the realm of experience.

By wonderful coincidence, most of the hikers that I’ve enjoyed spending time with through the Shenandoahs arrive here on the same night, camaraderie culminating at the moment we stumble into a beckoning party.

The fewer responsibilities we have, the less free we are. Communism and democracy differ in this only by a matter of degree. We can vote away freedom as easily as it can be taken away.

“Hike your own hike” is a trail mantra.

Back in Cornwall Bridge, I stop at a small store with a couple of gas pumps out front and spend half an hour ogling the food. Before hiking, I had never considered convenience stores places for culinary adventure.

slack-pack (walk some of the trail without a full pack).

Rain can be as mesmerizing as a campfire. It splatters off the table, frees pebbles from the earth, showers the trees, and drums on the roof.

I am not much for conversation, sitting idle, enervated by the rain, my mud-soaked shoes, the general filth of my person and all my gear. It is not often that I am so bothered by being “dirty” on this trip.

I am in for at least twelve hours of intense hiking, and there is hardly that much daylight.

Wet pines are wonderfully aromatic.

They are irritated, dispirited, and headed for a night hike on a wet trail on one of the most dangerous sections of the AT.

“fucking” is just an all-purpose adjective, and sometimes a sentence.

a cross between a fox and a squirrel. Martens are elusive, and rare in New Hampshire, so I feel fortunate to see him.

The architecture of the hut blends beautifully with the landscape, complementing, rather than detracting from, the picturesque austerity of the mountain. The same cannot be said of the spindly collection of weather antennae on the summit.

“If you begin to experience difficulty from weather conditions, remember that the worst is yet to come, and turn back, without shame, before it is too late.”

When my father took us hiking as kids, I was lukewarm about the trips. Yeah, the mountains looked neat and all, but couldn’t we just drive around and look at them? Why’d

Backpacking is hard—that’s just the way it is. Obviously conditioning is advantageous, but the perception of disadvantage can be more debilitating than actual disadvantage.

WELCOME TO MAINE The way life should be

It’s just a walk in the woods.

My hike has made me a believer in trekking poles.

she had no employer to withhold taxes, I took additional withholding from my paycheck. It wasn’t enough, and we were staggered when we filed our taxes at year’s end. We owed an additional thirteen thousand dollars. The amount was unbelievable. We weren’t rich. We had spent six child-raising years living off a single income, and we had hoped that Juli’s return to work would allow us to put more money aside. The tax bill erased our savings; it was heartbreaking.

I wish kids never got hurt. They seem too tender to have to deal with pain.

I’d like to hurl every expletive I know at the trail at this moment.

under the light of the full moon.

Biscuit is quick to apologize for their reticence earlier in the day. It is September 11, and they had decided to observe the day with silence.

We can see Katahdin, perfectly centered in the swath cleared of trees. The side of the peak to our right is tinted gold with sunlight. The top of the mountain is the first piece of land in the United States touched by the morning sun.

Thru-hiking has been more of a challenge than I expected. Always, there were exhausting climbs and bone-jarring descents. The amount of elevation gain and loss on the AT is equivalent to climbing up and down Mount Everest sixteen times.

But the pleasure and contentment I felt on the trail far outweighed the adversity. Even on the most exasperating days, I never considered quitting.

Mount Katahdin is the most picturesque mountain on the trail.

I have come through fourteen states, seen twenty-one bears, lost eight toenails, and gone through six pairs of shoes.

This is it: 146 days of unforgettable scenery, seemingly endless miles of trail, rain, pain, and friendships. It’s over. There are no more miles to walk.

“When I look back on all the worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which never happened.”—Winston Churchill

it is important for parents to continue to live their own lives. We can’t sit by and say we’ve already made our decisions, done our striving, and dish out opinions on the doings of our children. Words alone lack authority, and we risk making them surrogates for the life we’d like to lead. We can better relate to the budding aspirations of our children if we follow dreams of our own.