Appalachian Trail
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front
only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it
had to teach, and not when I came to die, discover that I had not
lived"
~Henry David Thoreau
| About two years after the failure of my 28 year marriage, ( took that long to realize the only thing we had in common, we both married the wrong person ) my 26 year old son came back to Vero Beach, Florida to live with me and help in my car detailing business. At least until he found employment in his chosen field of electronics. I started realizing that my son had a problem with alcohol. In fact, he had an auto accident while under the influence of alcohol and was charged with DUI. And to add to the problems for this young college graduate that had never been in trouble in his life, his car was totaled and he had a huge restitution to cover for damage to the other vehicle. At the same time he lost his newly acquired job where he would be working in his chosen field for the first time. I told him the situation wasn't that bad and we could work through the problem. I had no idea how this was going to come about, but I had to put his mind at ease some way. And then, just a few weeks later, I was reading a magazine article about the Appalachian Trail. I am embarrassed to confess, I had no idea what the Appalachian Trail was. At first I thought it to be some old trail that my ancestors in Southeastern Kentucky used to reach their area of the Appalachians. As I continued reading about this wilderness trail it stirred in me an adventuresome spirit I had not felt since youth. And then I had a brainstorm; why not leave my 30 year old business in the capable hands of my son and embark upon this adventure of a lifetime! My son had grown up in the business and was comfortable with every facet of it. My thought was that several birds could be brought down with one stone. The responsibility would be great for my son. I knew he always put his best foot forward when given a challenge. My plan was that he would be concentrating so much on his new responsibility that he would have to limit his drinking and meet the new challenge. Also as part of the plan he would keep all profits from the business which would aid him in speedily paying off his court appointed restitution payments. My son seemed excited about the plan and eagerly volunteered to help orchestrate my 2,167.3 mile thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail form Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine. March 28, 1999, my son and my girlfriend drove me to the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail at Amicalola Falls State Park in Georgia. Stevie and I walked around the park and hiked a small section of the trail together. My son became very excited and stated that he would like to thru-hike the "AT" the following year. My original idea kept getting better, father would take out the old century with a thru-hike and son would bring in the new century with his thru-hike of the trail! We even made a deal that we both would do the eight mile "Approach Trail" from Amicalola Falls to Springer Mountain, the actual terminus for the Appalachian Trail, in spite of the fact that it isn't officially part of the "AT" and those eight miles don't count. Amicalola Falls Welcome Center is the official registration station for Appalachian Trail thru-hikers. While signing in, the lady who brought out the official registration book told us of a lady who had registered the day before us. "She comes into register for her thru-hike and asked which one of those roads out there is the Appalachian Trail." She laughingly related. "I told her, ma'am, the trail is not a road, the trail is a, well... it's a trail!" Shaking her head and rolling her eyes she continues, "And then she looks at me in total amazement and said, you mean it is not paved?! And, she is looking at me as if I'm the one out in left field! I really thought at first she was surely joking! And then after I explained the terrain of the "AT" and that it is an extremely narrow and rugged footpath she looked totally surprised and asked, "How am I supposed to carry all my stuff?" She was shaking her head even more now and says, "I told her you have to carry it on your back in a backpack... like everyone else does. She just said, "Oh" and she went out the door, she seemed pretty upset." She goes on with the story, "A ranger came in and said, "Whose grocery cart is that outside with all that stuff in it?" I walked over, looked out the door, sure enough, there she was standing next to a grocery cart filled with all kinds of camping stuff!" "Did she try to get on the trail with it?" I asked. "No." She answered. "We told her no wheels were permitted on the trail!" "Why?" my son asked, laughing, "It's not like she was going to get very far and we could have had a blast watching her try!" My son had an interesting point, she couldn't have made it ten feet! I started out the next day at 6:00 am, and by the way, I had never hiked a day in my life. I started up the incline, which my son had to convince me was not simply a dried up creek bed. It was cold, about 28 degrees. Much in contrast to the low 80's I had left behind in beautiful Vero Beach, Florida. I think I started to hyper-ventilate, probably from a combination of the cold weather and anxiety brought on by my new endeavor. Just a few steps into the steep climb and I was unable to get my breath. Being fifty pounds overweight and carrying a backpack well over fifty pounds was also a factor .... I'm sure. I knew then this was a stupid idea, I needed to be back in sunny Florida. I turned to yell for my son and girlfriend to wait for me and carry my fat ass back to Florida! They were gone! My heart was pounding, my head spinning and I was having a very hard time getting my breath. I had been deceived into thinking this was going to be a breeze. I had watched several times, a video of "thru-hikers" at various stages of their hikes, I never saw one thru-hiker hyper-ventilate. And not one of them warned me against taking on such an insane quest! One young man did give warning to learn all the words to at least three songs though. This obviously was not going to be a breeze, and I would come to regret not learning the words to even one song! And then, pride and stubbornness took over and I began rationalizing that I would look like a complete asshole for bragging to all, I would hike the entire Appalachian Trail. One might quit with some dignity after a few hundred miles, but not five feet! I stood there a few moments allowing my breathing to become normal and my ego to kick in and continued in the direction of Maine. "Wow, this hiking stuff is hard!" I was having to admit. And that damned backpack felt like a hundred pounds instead of fifty... "Wonder where that lady put her grocery cart?" Around 9:00 am just as my confidence was starting to return, I had the sensation of someone watching me and upon turning around, just a few steps behind me, was a stranger! A large man, perhaps in his late twenties. I was alarmed, I felt that being so close he should have made his presence known. He had only a plastic grocery bag slung over his shoulder and only one small bottle of water. We stood there just looking at each other for a few seconds and then he asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to Maine and then I remembered advice from the books I had studied in my eight month preparation for my thru-hike, "give strangers little information about yourself or where you are going." He asked some questions about the trail and then he asked me what I did for a living. I told him I owned a small business in Florida (more negligence of advice on do's and dont's from the experts!) He then asked if I had a business card. I told him that I didn't carry them as i didn't even carry a wallet. I was becoming increasingly nervous about this guy and decided to tolerate his questions until I figured out an inconspicuous way of getting behind him. I had a bad feeling about this guy! He told me he was getting ready to do a thru-hike of the "AT" real soon and he intended to do it in 45 days! That ridiculous statement and the fact that he was wearing flat soled shoes told me this man had no knowledge of the Appalachian Trail nor any aspect of hiking. I was becoming increasingly suspicious of what his true intentions were and then he really floored me with his next question, "How much cash do you carry?" I quickly responded, "never more than two or three dollars, I will use ATM machines for needed cash in towns and I will probably have my son send me traveler checks as my hike progresses." I then told him I was taking a break to strip out of my long-johns that were becoming much too warm, thus making him aware that i needed some privacy .... hoping to then move behind him. He seemed to take the hint and moved just a few steps in front of me, then stopped, turned to face me and and asked, "Do you have a gun?" It is illegal to carry a firearm on the "AT" and I did not have one, but I did not hesitate to look him squarely in the eye and answer, "Yes, I have a gun." He nodded his head as if in approval turned and walked away. I couldn't believe it, my first day out and I have to run into this asshole! This guy scared me. I decided to give him some time to get a good distance ahead of me before actually stripping off my clothing. I also retrieved my little three inch pocket knife from my backpack and kept it close. Since that encounter I have always kept a small knife in my pocket while hiking. I had just started hiking again and I heard him yelling something very loudly. He was probably 200 feet or so ahead. The forest was so thick and the trail turns and winds so much it is impossible to see anyone at that distance, most of the time. He yelled, "Hey, I think I see one!" I yelled back, "See what?" "A grizzly." He shouts. By this time I am completely fed up with this idiot and had become somewhat confident that I was safe because he was thinking I had a gun. So I yelled back, "That's some damn good hearing you have there, most people can't hear sounds all the way to Northern Montana!" And under my breath I added, "You asshole!" The only grizzlies in the United States are in some Northwestern states close to the Canadian border. I have no idea whether he was a criminal wanting to rob me or if he was just really stupid, but I never heard or saw him again. About two hours later I look up in front of me and to my utter astonishment... and pleasure, walking toward me was one of the most beautiful young women I ever laid eyes on! She had long flowing dark brown hair, a face seen only in movies and magazines, and every other attribute you can think of to conjure up the image of a truly magnificent looking woman! I really did momentarily think, "I must be dreaming!" And before I could think, "What is a woman this beautiful doing out here by herself?" I saw at her side, the largest and most beautiful Wolf-dog I've ever seen! I think she sensed my shock and to let me know I was not sleep walking, she filled her face with a most beautiful smile and said, "Hi, are you doing the whole trail?" I stuttered out, "Yes, I'm going all the way." The beautiful, and intimidating Wolf-dog surprised me by putting his monstrous head against my hand. "He likes you," spoke the dream. You can only imagine how relieved I was. Even so, I was still very careful of my movements in his presence. It was quite evident in that magnificent animals eyes and the manner in which he postured at her side, this was her best friend... and body guard! Lord have mercy on the person who made him prove it!" "He didn't like the guy who was just in front of you." She said. "He growled at him and watched him until he moved past me." I told her I hadn't cared for him either and told her of the improper questions he had asked. She told me there had been many times her Wolf-dog had shown a distinct discernment for not-so-nice people. She told me she and her Wolf-dog had thru-hiked the whole trail the previous year. I was totally impressed! This was my first encounter with a real thru-hiker! I met many more after that of course, but never again, one that beautiful, or one that well protected! These words of advice from journalist and author John Kieran, who wrote on hiking in 1953: "Take to the woods on windy days. It's quieter there. Keep your ears open. You can always hear more birds than you can see. Keep your eyes open. There are flowers in bloom through most months of summer. Take the sun over your shoulder for the best views. Avoid slippery footing as you would the plague, and don't sit on wet ground. Keep walking." I never saw another soul until I reached Springer Mountain and was officially at the beginning of the "AT". I had hiked a little over eight miles, the recommended distance for a beginner on their first day. I was looking for a site to pitch my tent even though there was plenty of daylight left, due to the fact I had started so early. Well, along comes a 19 year old from Maine who had been hiking since he could walk, and he decides he would like to hike with me. Okay, I'll hike a little longer. I never thought to ask if he had done the "Approach Trail", I just assumed he had. Well, he hadn't, He had only just started right there at Springer Mountain where all the other sane people start. He obviously made the mistake of assuming I too was sane, and had just started. I was struggling to keep up with this muscular, experienced 19 year old, I was 53! I was too proud to be smart and simply tell him I was spent and was stopping for the night. So, after awhile I started saying things like, "I'm way too slow for you, why don't you just go on ahead of me." And being a fine young gentleman, he kept answering that it was okay he would just hike slower so that I might keep up with him. "Thank you?!" Finally, after it was nearly dark and my feet were ready to explode out of my boots, he decided to stop. I can still remember his exact words, "Well, I think we should stop now because it is recommended that you only do about eight miles on your first day." Thus, I did 16 miles on my first day! My 19 year old companions "trail name" was "Red". "trail names" are the names that other hikers give you .... for various reasons. I have no idea why they called him "Red" for he was not red headed. Now the "trail name" later attached to me was much more obvious .... "No Clue". Anyway, "Red" and I fell into a wonderful situation that first night of our "thru-hike". We camped with a group of hikers who had hired a man by the name of "Pittsburgh" to lead them on a fully supported thru-hike of the "AT." In other words, "Pittsburgh" and his van would carry all their gear and supply meals whenever possible. To the delight of "Red" and I, "Pittsburgh" invited us to share a meal of beef stew with them. As "Red" and I gorged ourselves, "Pittsburgh" explained to his clients why they should share food they had paid for and why they should always extend a helping hand to other hikers whenever possible. He further explained that they never knew when they too might need some kindness when out on the trail. He called this kindness, "trail magic" and said this is the true spirit of the trail. "Red" and I both started eating faster .... just in case they didn't agree with "Pittsburgh's" trail philosophy! One member of "Pittsburgh's" group was known as "Chance". "Chance", who was maybe forty, had once been pretty high up the corporate ladder. He told me he found he had a knack for gambling, and unlike so many others, he actually made money at it. And like actors move to Hollywood to pursue their careers, "Chance moved to Las Vegas, and was not there long before he was given the name, "Chance". He only did sports betting. He said he decided he needed an extended break from the hustle of "Vegas" and felt it was the right time to pursue his dream of hiking the "AT". He had a serious back problem though and knew he couldn't carry a heavy backpack for long periods of time. But he knew that where there was a will there was a way and he eventually found out about "Pittsburgh" and his service. While I'm listening, I'm questioning in my mind, "Wow is it really possible to possess a talent for gambling? Can one really be exceptional .... at luck!" I was admiring the state-of-the-art expensive hiking gear that "Chance" owned and mentioned how blessed he was to be able to buy the the best of whatever he needed. He then explained that after he had decided on a "thru-hike" of the Appalachian Trail, he walked into an outdoor "outfitter" store in Las Vegas to look around and make some decisions on what exactly he needed for his "thru-hike." Upon entering the store there was notification of a contest that awarded the winner $1500.00 in their choice of equipment from the store. He filled out the entry form, dropped it in the box, looked around the store taking note of available gear and prices and then went home. "Chance" took a chance and about two weeks later he was notified that he won the contest! He told me this very nonchalantly ..... I don't believe he was at all surprised. I arose early the next morning with every muscle in my body aching! My feet were throbbing with pain! According to the books I had read in preparation for my quest, I was still six to eight weeks from getting my "trail leg's". "Trail leg's" meaning your body has adjusted to the rigorous extremes you are subjecting it to. At this point the only thing keeping me from quitting was not wanting to look bad! "Pittsburgh" was up making preparations for his clients day to begin. He and I spoke for awhile and came to know each other, I would run into him again up the trail. He was just one of the many fascinating and interesting people I would have the pleasure of meeting on the "AT". A few days and blisters later .... I was getting better at pitching my tent and preparing meals on my little wood burning camp stove, but I still wasn't worth a damn at hanging my food in a tree away from bears. And nearly every night I was horribly awakened by what sounded like at least two women being murdered at the same time. Some more experienced hikers tried to convince me that the sound comes from a source only eight inches tall and it has feathers. They said it was an owl. I was not convinced .... the bodies are still out there somewhere. And, I had to climb Blood Mountain, Georgia's highest point on the "AT", in a cold miserable rain and dense fog. Again I am thinking , "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" But it did help some to find out the name "Blood Mountain", came from a fierce battle fought there between the Cherokee and the Creek .... not the horrible deaths of past thru-hikers! I came off Blood Mountain and into Neel's Gap, the home of the Walasi-Yi center. Walasi-Yi center is a building made of stone and American Chestnut by Roosevelt's Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930's and is the only time in it's entire length the "AT" passes through a building! It now operates as an "outfitter" store catering to hikers .... of course. I took advantage of their service's, They helped me adjust my backpack and pointed out to me a few things I really didn't need, hence .... lightened up my load! And they explained to me the advantage of 'trekking poles', two very light walking sticks. And they called a nice gentleman, Keith, who came and picked me up and took me to his place, Goose Creek Cabins, near Blairsville, Georgia and I spent the night in a real bed! Okay! Next morning I am ready to go! Lighter pack, new trekking poles, and great nights sleep in a real bed! Nothing can stop me now! Wrong! By 5:00 pm I was back at Goose Creek cabins with a severely sprained ankle! I still don't know how I fell. Keith loaned me a pair of crutches to get around on. A physical therapist staying at the cabins looked at it , said it was a really serious sprain and I should stay off of it for at least fifteen days! Four days later I had Keith drive me back to the trail and I limped my butt back out on that damn trail! Once you start a thru-hike something takes over in you .... you just have to make it to Maine. No matter how miserable you become out there and no matter how much you start missing the creature comforts at your feet .... the trail calls to you after you leave it. Many were the times I would rush down a mountain, get off the trail, enter a restaurant for a highly anticipated hot meal .... and catch myself staring out the window at the mountains, longing to be back up there! That damn trail! I was on my way to loving it. There's the story of a thru-hiker who emerged from the "AT" parking lot at Newfound Gap in the Tennessee - North Carolina Smokies. A pudgy sandaled tourist hailed him: "Hey buddy, where's that path lead to?" The hiker silenced him with one word: "Maine." I would soon discover I had found not only a new geographical region of the U.S. and a unique manner in which to see it, but a whole new culture. For the past 30 years I had been consumed with running a business and raising a son and daughter, Stevie and Shelly. I had "No Clue" that out there on that beckoning footpath existed a whole different world! One made up of fascinating individuals who answer the trails soul finding call .... Individuals such as "So What". I was just a few days out of Goose Creek Cabins, still limping my way down the trail when I met a unique southern gentleman who looked a lot like Gene Hackman. He had a wonderful Mississippi drawl and a smile that put one at ease immediately. He started the conversation with, "How y'all doin' .... y'all goin' all the way?" I told him yes and then sat down at his fire with him. His 'trail name' was "So What" and of course I had to find out how that came to be. He was an executive with a large grocery chain in Mississippi until he had a heart attack and had to have a triple by-pass. With the heart problems came early retirement, which he did not want, he was only 52! And the bad side of life wasn't done with him yet! Only a few months after the by-pass he was in a severe car wreck and had to have very serious back surgery! He told me that some months later he was reading an article about the Appalachian Trail and he got excited! He said he yelled for his wife to come out of the kitchen and he said to her, "By God I'm gonna' do this damn trail!" as he was pointing excitingly to the article. His wife, naturally concerned for his health, started arguing with him. She began pointing out to him the reasons and physical handicaps that made it impossible for him to hike the Appalachian Trail! To which he answered, "So What"!! Within months he was out on the trail. He visited his doctor after a few months of hiking and the doctor asked him what he had been doing differently because he looked wonderful and his heart was strong! I had made yet another new friend. With every new acquaintance , I became more excited about the prospect of my son Stevie hiking the trail and having these same wonderful experiences. As I got miles and weeks further down the trail, I found that there was just an endless chain of fascinating people on the "AT", if you took the time to stop and talk to them .... which I almost always did. After the initial greeting, I would ask the trail name. Some named themselves but most seemed to have been given by their fellow hikers. One could write a book just on the 'trail names ' and how they were arrived at. There were names like "Rerun" who was 80 years old and on his third thru-hike of the "AT". He did his first when he was 60! I contributed a 'trail name' myself, to a gentleman in his early 70's. Who instead of stopping his hike or even complaining, each time he had a new pain in one of his joints, he simply wrapped the sore area with Ace bandage and continued walking. At one point he had so much bandage wrapped around his body, he looked like a mummy. So I thought it quite befitting to dub him, "King Tut". I don't know if "King Tut" finished his thru-hike .... if he didn't it damn sure wasn't from a lack of tenacity! There were many other interesting trail names like, "Never Alone", "Ermo", "Little Dipper", "Downhill Hopeful", "B+", "Stone Monkey", "Sky", "Leaf Peeper", "Redneck Rye", and an older couple who took their name from the most popular staple eaten on the trail .... "Mac and Cheese". Then there was the young lady I encountered one morning literally beating the hell out of her backpack with her hands and then shaking it profusely! A young man whom I had met earlier, "Giggles", saw the bewildered look on my face, "That's "Whack-A-Pack", He explained. "Her first night on the trail she stayed in a shelter, ( three sided structures along the "AT" ) when she woke the next morning and was loading up her pack, she thought she felt something moving in her pack. She did in fact!" He continued, "A mouse from the shelter had made a nest in her backpack during the night and had given birth!" She screamed for a very long time!" He pointed out. Well, from what I saw, it damn sure wasn't going to happen to her again! Not only were the trail names clever and often humorous, likewise were the foods, procedures, places, etc. People who give voluntary aid and food to thru-hikers are called "trail angels". Trail mix is called "gorp" which stands for "good old raisins and peanuts." And "all you can eat restaurants" are called "AYCE's". The act of getting food from hiking groups, boy scout troops, tourist, etc., is called "Yogi-ing" from the old Yogi Bear cartoon. One morning at a shelter, a thru-hiker, "Rockfish", asked if I would like to have a cup of coffee with him. It was a real cool morning, that sounded good, yep, I could use a good hot cup of coffee. He then says to me, "All I have is "tampon coffee" I hope you don't mind. Now, I don't know what that conjures up in your mind .... but? He then proceeded to drop into two cups of hot water, little packets with strings on them, just like teabags, only they contained coffee. I had never seen them before, it wasn't as good as fresh brewed, but it tasted better than it sounded. I must take credit for the naming of a substance occassionaly carried by some thru-hikers. It came about one evening at a shelter somewhere in North Carolina. I was sitting in the shelter eating my freshly prepared Ramen noodles with pieces of beef jerky added. In front of me was my tent pitched at quite an angle, but it was the most level spot available. I prefer the privacy of a tent over the restricting and often over crowded shelters. Also at the shelter were three young ladies I had met earlier. One of the young ladies, looking out at my tent said, "No Clue", it looks as you are going to be quite uncomfortable tonight with your tent being so unlevel?" " Oh that." I said, That's not a problem, I have a "tent leveler". To which she responded, "Yeah right, there is no such thing as a "tent leveler". "Sure there is!" I said. "Yeah, that's right , they're just three dumb broads and they will be gullible enough to believe there is actually such a thing as a "tent leveler"! Chimed in another of the trio. "Yeah, let's joke around with the girls, they'll never know the difference!" Said the third one. "No. I'm really serious !" I assured them. Well, let's see it work!" Said the first non-believer, who was now sitting next to me. Just hold on, let me finish eating and I will demonstrate it for you." I told them. "Yeah right!" The three of them answered sarcatically. A few minutes later I finished eating and retrieved from my backpack my bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, tilted up the bottle and took a healthy swig. The young lady next to me said, "What're you doing, I thought you were going to level your tent?" "I am leveling my tent! I explained. "Well," She responded, "It certainly doesn't look level to me!" "Hey, these things take time." I counteracted. I then proceeded to take another good swig, looked toward my tent. stretched my arm out with my thumb sticking up, squinted my left eye, looked down my arm and moved my head from side to side as though I were looking at every angle of it and said, "Now it's getting there, yup, it's starting to level right up!" "Well, it certainly doesn't look level to me!" She said. And while the other two are nodding their heads in agreement, I turned to her with the bottle outstretched and said, "That's certainly understandable .... here, try this." A big smile came over her face as she accepted the bottle. She took a good size drink and to my amazement never even flinched! She sat there a few moments, took another drink and announced, "By God he's right, the damn thing is getting level!" Thus the term "tent leveler" was born. |
   I have tried other tents, but none have come even close to meeting my needs the way the Hilleberg Akto has. When properly pitched, it withstands a storm like a Sherman tank!
www.hilleberg.com There may be a boot out there somewhere which is comparable to my Danner's... but I've never found it! Remember... I've walked over 21,000 miles! I love my Danner's!! Danner always donates a pair of boots when I start a new walk! www.Danner.com 
 "No Clue" (me) near Gatlinburg, Tennessee on the trail. This picture was taken by my friend, famous cowboy poet, story teller, and liar, David "Buffalo Bill" Nelson. I had just rested up a couple days at his home. www.cowboycomedyshow.com  "Trail Dawg" 2000 miler 2004 hanging out at McAfee Knob in Virginia  Appalachian Trail southern terminus Springer Mountain in Georgia |
