Appalachian Trail Getaway

IF YOU CAN DREAM IT, YOU CAN DO IT -- WALT DISNEY

I’m full of cockamamie plans, including convincing my 17 year old daughter that hiking a 41 mile segment of the Appalachian Trail would be the vacation of a lifetime.  I was right of course.  I’ll never forget those precious months of excitement, planning, collaboration, and discussion.  If you’ve survived a teenager of your own, you know how lucky I am to have experienced this.  I have never been more proud of my daughter, casting aside the make-up, cell phone, and various trappings of teenaged life to conquer mountain after mountain on foot.  We talked and laughed over every single mile; when I felt like giving up she convinced me that we could and must press on.  They told me it will happen, and I believed them, but somehow I was shocked and unprepared when my daughter suddenly had a full life of friendships, college, work, and activities that included me less and less.  But I will always have those 41 miles and our achievement together – us against the wilderness, integrated with the earth, finding our way, solving problems, putting one foot in front of the other.

8/30/14 (Day 1 of 5) Mason Dixon line to Raven Rock shelter 4.7 miles

Planning is over, doing begins.  Excited.  Also nervous about bear maulings, snake bites, dying of thirst, getting my period unexpectedly all over the back of my shorts unbeknownst to me.  Picked the easiest section, where boy scouts get their 50 miler badges.  Path well-traveled by boy scouts must be safe.  Parked at Harper’s Ferry NP ($10), checked in at Visitor’s center – nice safety precaution perk.  River and Trail Outfitter shuttle to Mason Dixon right on time.  Note – next time don’t drive and hike on the same day—5 hours in the car and already exhausted before I take the first step.   Three minutes into the hike and already hopelessly lost.  Wandered around for 10 minutes and thought about calling the shuttle to retrieve us.  Spotted a blaze, got back on track, and within minutes, bragging about how awesome and brave we are for taking on the AT.  Suddenly came upon what the AT guide called “laborious uphill terrain.”  Should be called “stroke inducing uphill rocks balanced precariously on a narrow precipice.”  This went on way longer than most natural childbirths and equally painful.  Planned on making the second shelter (Cowell, mile 1044.6) but began searching desperately for the first, Raven Rock.  Found it, then down a rocky incline to refill water, another three tenths of a mile my ass! To shallow, back up the hill empty handed.  Washcloth bath, fresh clothes, ate a granola bar, pushed the dog up the ladder of the swanky loft style shelter and would have fallen immediately asleep if not for the simultaneous snoring and rustling of five other hikers.  What have I gotten us into? 

8/31/14 (Day 2 of 5) 9.9 miles, Raven Rock Shelter to Pogo Memorial Campsite

Pretty sketchy.  Full day ahead, 90 degrees and only 16 ounces of water.  Gave mine to the dog, so I’m out.  Asked a hippie hiker coming from the direction we’re headed about the next water source.  “No Worries, Brah!  At the next cross road go right, ½ mile down is a way cool hostel.”  Lie.  Big fat lie.  Walked forever down that road, hot and thirsty, no hostel. Had we stayed on the trail, crossing the road instead of turning down it (Brah!) we would have found the most amazing, deep, clear, rushing stream just past the guardrail. Collected & treated 2 liters each, and took a bit of a swim in the icy water.  Heaven!  Phone started blowing up, landlord screeching about my dog biscuit, left her home because she’s too old for such a trek, neighbor taking care of her helpless against her lonesome howling.  Called a friend who lives in the country to go pick her up and then the battery went dead.  Who knows if I’ll have a dog or a place to live when I get home?  Walked a million miles and another and another.  We must have passed Cowall (mile 1044.6) somewhere way back, and pushing on toward Pogo Memorial Campsite (mile 1039.6).  Hours later we see the shelter in the distance, yeah Pogo!  But wait, it’s not Pogo, It’s Cowall.  We’re 5 miles behind where we thought we were.  I’m ready to give up, but that means giving up on finishing---no way we can make up the miles. Phone’s dead, so no way to call for a pick up.   Deciding between my daughter, who is sure we can do it, and Toast, with his are-you-fucking-kidding eyes.  We do something terrible, unthinkable really, and dump everything remotely ancillary at Cowall--two thermal shirts, a paperback, my yoga mat, some of the food.  I convince myself that another hiker will need these items, but the weight of “leave no trace” guilt is heavier than the items I left behind.  The sky dumps at the exact moment the terrain climbs 500 feet in a vertical rock formation.  Can’t breathe -- combination of extreme exertion and instant karma trying to drown me with torrential rain.    At least it didn’t last long, actually felt good to rinse off the sweaty stench.  Believe it or not, we make it to Pogo -beautiful stream, terrible campsite.  Collect and treat, rinse out our socks and underwear downstream, set up the tent, promptly rename it Pogo Memorial Gravel Incline.  Inside the tent we tried all four positional directions --heads inclined to a near standing position, feet inclined in a near headstand, rolling downhill on top of one another, couldn’t sleep.  Dog paws up my butt and nose at the same time didn’t help. 

9/1/14 (Day 3 of 5) 8.9 miles, Pogo Memorial Campsite to Dahlgren Campground

Labor Day.  What a difference two days make.  Day one -- terrified of being mauled by a bear.  Day 3 -- my only hope is to be mauled by a bear so I don’t have to take another step.  Everything hurts.  Our skin is gouged out in places where the packs rub.  Rather starve to death in the wilderness than eat another fucking granola bar.  Underdrawers and socks still wet, pin them to the outside of our packs and get walking.  Looks ridiculous but who cares?  Tonight we’ll make it to Dahlgren’s!  O heavenly shower!  Gloriously thick and velvety carpet of grass to sleep upon! We press on with tunnel vision, thinking of nothing else but Dahlgren’s.  Would have been the most picturesque day, several scenic views down side trails and Washington Monument State Park with museums, monuments, and scenery to explore.  But sidetrails, no matter how scenic, or any steps adding to the miles we already had to put in are a no go, conserving every bit of energy for getting there.  Dahlgren’s!  More magical than we’d ever imagined!   Dirty, run down, daddy long legs everywhere, a shower that you had to hold the knob to get the one temp (icy) water to come out, a sink dirtier than the filthy clothes we washed in it. Felt like the Taj Mahal.  We slept like Kings. 

9/2/14 (Day 4 of 5) 10.9 miles, Dahlgren Campground to Ed Garvey Shelter

Woke up clean, how wonderful!  Clothes still soaking wet, used the camp fire grate, put our clothes on it, turning our underwear and socks like steaks, with the grill marks to prove it.  Today we pass through Gathland State Park where they have a snack bar and FRENCH FRIES.  Placed bets on my daughter for six hamburgers and ten for my dog.  Fantasized about those golden beauties-- crinkle cut, steak, curly, extra crispy.  The trip’s longest hiking day, but arrived at Gathland fairly early.  Entered the park office for snack bar directions, and because life likes to kick you when you’re already dragging ass, Ranger told us Gathland had no snack bar.  Just to rub salt in the wound she told us Washington Monument State Park has a snack bar ---same park we walked through yesterday, too tired to explore.    No French Fries, hamburgers, or cold root beer.  I started bawling uncontrollably.  My daughter led me outside to a bench.  Couldn’t imagine going on without just one single french fry-- because all we had left was gorp, so sick of it that even the dog wouldn’t eat it.  Time to “suck it up buttercup” and keep it moving, punctuating each step with every incarnation of the word fuck you can imagine.  By the time we found Ed Garvey shelter we fell right to sleep, dreaming of french fries.  Tomorrow is our last day, thank God. 

9/3/14 (Day 5 of 5) 6.4 miles Ed Garvey Shelter to Harpers Ferry

We’re going home.  Today’s our last day so we were packed and on the trail while everyone else at the shelter was still snoring.  Short hiking day today but seemed a lot longer because 1) most of it was flat along the C&O canal, 2) we couldn’t wait to get there, and   3)we started thinking about food, real food that we were about to drive to, order over a squawk box, and devour.  Can’t believe we made it but we did.  Looking back and upward we can see ridge after ridge of the mountains we just walked over.  At the end we came to a foot bridge that spans the Potomac River, we could see tourists on the other side on a Harpers Ferry tour and we pumped both fists in the air and went wild.  We start jumping around and screaming like Rocky on top of the Art Museum steps.  Even the dog starts scampering.   The tourists think we’re nuts, but we don’t care – we just walked 50 miles in the woods, carrying the world on our backs.  When we get closer to them, they can smell us and start to walk away.  We throw our shoes in the nearest garbage can, hop in the car and head to the nearest Sheetz where we order three large breakfast burritos and inhale them.  Toast even ate the wrapper.  Within 5 minutes my dog and daughter are crashed out in the back seat. 

Later when I got home I weighed myself and was surprised that I lost about 5 pounds in as many days.  I counted all the things I lost:  The feeling of worrying what other people think of me, being afraid to try, being more afraid to fail, media brainwashing that makes to buy the latest piece of technology, some skin, some tears, my yoga mat.  I guess those things are worth about five pounds.  For all the things I’ve gained, you’ll have to hit the trail yourself and then you’ll know why I’m planning to do it all again.