THE DREAM

June 2002. I am 63 years old, out of shape, and with no hiking experience since I was 12. So, I thought, why not hike the Appalachian Trail; all of it, 2,167 miles stretching from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Mt. Katahdin, Maine?

I first thought of the Appalachian Trail (AT) about a year ago. I do not know where the idea came from; it leaped into my brain without advance warning, but it will not go away. I have lived on a boat for the last ten years, and maybe I am simply ready for a change in scenery and lifestyle, but it is interesting that my thoughts were about hiking a particular trail and not hiking in general.

Those who hike the AT or other long trails from end to end are called thru-hikers. Thru-hiker…I fell in love with that term when I first heard it. For me it is a metaphor for moving on, a journey on an unfamiliar path to a far-off destination.

Once my affliction took hold, I became a hiking and backpacking publications junkie. I read everything I could get my hands on that would help me prepare for the journey; including hours and hours cruising the web for tips on hiking long distances and living in the wilderness for extended periods. I found myself wandering into outfitting stores, e.g., REI, L.L. Bean, EMS, and Hudson Trail, where I timidly asked questions about packs, tents, boots, and other outdoor paraphernalia.

Other than day hikes I have almost no experience on the trail, with or without a backpack. Carrying a heavy load day in and day out concerns me, and I wonder if I can do it. However, when I begin to doubt myself, I remember that I am not constrained by time or commitments, no job calling me back, no school to return to, and no schedule to worry about. I will move at my own pace, (hike my own hike as they say), and if I get hurt, I will rest until my injury heals, and then go on. I will use the next few months to get in shape and to fine-tune my gear for an early 2003 departure, late February, weather permitting.

A couple of weeks ago I spied another hiker, even older than me, who was passing though Annapolis, MD, and I headed him off with my car as he cut through a parking lot. I peppered the poor man with endless questions, but he was very patient with me as we stood there chatting in the scorching sun with the 90 degree heat radiating off the asphalt. He was carrying 60 pounds of weight on an external frame pack, and the load towered high over his head. The external pack frame had things hanging all over it like a Christmas tree, and it looked like he would teeter and fall over any minute. I wondered where his center of gravity was, somewhere around his neck, I decided. He had worn out his boots between Indiana and Annapolis, and he was sidetracking through town to buy a new pair. The poor man was wearing sandals and the paper-thin soles were flapping in the air like fan blades. He said he was hiking the Discovery Trail from Indiana to Cape Henlopen, Delaware. I have read about The Discovery Trail. It runs across America from Cape Henlopen to Point Reyes National Seashore in California, but it is mostly on the roadway and not much of a trail. He started in Indiana, because that's where he lives with his wife who had previously hiked the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail with him—no slacker she—but who wouldn't join him on the Discovery Trail, because, as I said, it is mostly on the roadway and not in the backcountry. I offered him a ride to the mall, but he declined. (60 lbs on his back and he declined my offer; that is the type of lunatic I will be cavorting with on the AT.)

I will not carry 60 pounds. I cannot carry 60 pounds for 2,167 miles. Many other people have come to the same conclusion and in recent years, a new breed of backpacker emerged. They are called Ultra Light Backpackers, and they are fanatics; crazy people who cut their toothbrushes in half to save a tenth of an ounce. Ultra-light backpackers’ can thru-hike for hundreds and thousands of miles with a total pack weight of 20 pounds or less. I met a thru-hiker in Harpers Ferry who did the AT with a 10 lb load, not counting food and water. I am not reaching for that level. I am more like a medium-large packer. I plan to go out around 30-35 pounds, but that will include everything I am carrying on my body, not only my pack weight, but the clothes and shoes I am wearing. I call it my Carry and Weary weight. I'm having a hard time getting down to my Carry and Weary target and last week I spent an hour at the local post office—where they have accurate scales that measure to the tenth of an ounce—weighing my gear. Tent, stakes, water bottles, socks, soap, eyeglasses, batteries, sleeping pad, toilet paper, that sort of stuff.

I have lived on a boat for years and I was pleased to learn that some of the tools and appliances I use for living on the water are adaptable to trekking in the woods, and a welcome relief for my tight budget. The mind set is similar too. Whether sailing or hiking, space is a premium, and weight is synonymous with slow speed. The misery of living on a small boat has much in common with the misery of thru hiking on the trail. For example:

1) Weather - Wet, hot or cold
2) Food – Often eaten directly out of a bag or can
3) Fresh Water - A premium and always rationed
4) Living quarters - Cramped
5) Hygiene - Sanitation is primitive, showers a luxury.
6) Bugs

Now I know why I am attracted to this sport. It is tailor made for my game—suffering.

I have made several concessions to lighten my load. I traded my old pack, which weighed 7+ pounds for a lighter version that tips the scale at only 22 ounces, saving 5 lbs, 10 oz. And I threw out my sleeping bag, which weighed 3 lbs, 11 ounces. For most of the hike, I will make do with my sleeping bag liner; it only weighs 13.9 ounces, saving 2 lbs, 13.1 oz. Did you see that? I am now recording tenths of ounces. I have become one of them.

I discarded my old tent, because it weighed 5 lbs, 11 oz., and replaced it with a lighter version weighing 3 lbs, 7 oz., still too heavy, but I got a fire sale discount and I could not resist. Another 2 lbs, 4 oz. saved.

I could go on and on with other examples, but I have run out of ways to save weight simply by substitution. I must start to eliminate things; things I thought I could not live without.

My Carry and Weary weight is down to 31 lbs 3 ounces, but there are a handful of things I have not weighed (camera, film, knife, etc.), and I estimate I am uncomfortably over 35 lbs. That includes 4 lbs, 14 oz of water (and bottles), but it does not include food and I have reserved 10 pounds maximum for that, so if I want to hold my Carry and Weary weight to 30 lbs, I must eliminate another 15 lbs.

Reluctantly, I know where to start; my sleeping pad. It is a top of the line Therm-a-Rest pad and my largest concession to luxury. I have zealously held onto it, because I will be on the trail for about 180 nights and I want to sleep comfortably. But it weighs 3 lbs 6 oz. I can substitute a smaller, lighter version from the same company that weighs only 1 lb. I have no choice. The 2 lbs, 6 oz. saved is irresistible. I am sure there are chiropractors along the way.

I bought my new flyweight pack at the Outfitter in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. I went to Harpers Ferry, because the Outfitter there was the only retailer I could find within driving distance of Annapolis that carried a reasonable selection of lightweight packs. Harpers Ferry is also the home of the Appalachian Trail Conference (ATC), a non-profit group dedicated to the preservation of the AT. And it is the psychological halfway mark for the AT and a good place to meet other thru hikers. Many of them stop at the ATC office to have their pictures made, and I hung out there off and on throughout the day as if I was one of them, but of course, they could see through my masquerade. (Among other things, I did not smell ripe.)

I spent all day in Harpers Ferry, much of it at the Outfitter at Harpers Ferry trying on various packs. Laura, the owner, loaded me up with weights (to simulate the pain and agony of the real thing) and I merrily hiked up and down the hill to the ATC office time after time, testing different packs for fit and comfort. Here is the deal—none of them fit—and they are all uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I found a reasonable compromise that was also inexpensive. We will see.

I brought several items with me to stuff in my new pack, because I wanted to see how they would fit before I made a final decision. The pack I selected had no shape; it practically had no material. It was more like a mosquito net with shoulder straps and it was a pleasant surprise to learn that my gold plated sleeping pad provided much needed form and shape for my weightless, shapeless pack. I think the lighter, shorter version of the sleeping pad will serve even better, because it will be less bulky and leave more space in the core to store other things.

The proprietors and customers of the Outfitter at Harpers Ferry mercilessly kidded me about the size and weight of my sleeping pad and they coined my trail name on the spot. “I will hereafter be known as Sealy (as in mattress),” they said. Most, but not all thru hikers adopt trail names and they use them to sign in at the shelters and campsites along the way. It is a social tradition, but a useful one; it is the quickest way to locate someone in an emergency. FYI, you will not find me by searching for Sealy, because I plan to retire that moniker, once I replace my king-sized pad with a sleeker version.

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