The Challenge

Starting in June, we will be walking from Mt. Katahdin in Maine’s Baxter State Park to Springer Mountain in Georgia. If you factor in the extra walking we’ll be doing (such as getting into towns), this distance will be comparable to traversing the Atlantic from Canada to France. The odds of success are low. Of the 1,700 northbound hikers who registered with the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in 2011, 849 made it to the halfway point (an ATC station in Harper’s Ferry, Virginia) and 432 made it to Katahdin. That makes ~25% completion rate—pretty close to that of an average year.

I’m sure there are a myriad of reasons people stop doing things in their lives, and when you throw in the physical and emotional challenges of hiking and camping in the woods, then stretch that over many months (while not making any money)… it’s not too hard to imagine a person getting to mile 500, thinking about eating the same ramen noodles for dinner that’s he’s eaten for weeks, then stubbing his toe for the eighth time that day and deciding ‘that’s IT.’ I’ve followed quite a few AT blogs, and the posts generally stop after enough seemingly small things add up.

Now, I’m not a terribly competitive person (one of many reasons why I’m unlikely to be picked first for kickball) but if someone even suggests that I can’t do something it triggers this strange, bubbly heat somewhere between my heart and my stomach. Some may suggest a resemblance to acid reflux, but my suspicion is that this is where my stubbornness has decided to take root. When this heat persists unsquelched by my brain, great things can happen—and that’s how I feel for this hike. In this case, though, there hasn’t really been anyone suggesting I can’t do this. Trying to talk me out of it, yes. Telling me outright that I may not be capable, no… except for those statistics. So if you discount the bears and the rattlesnakes (let’s not talk about those right now), it’s really the trail and my own limits (real or imagined) that I’ll be up against out there—a perfect plotline for adventure. And so to the trail (and myself) I say: Challenge Accepted.

“Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry.”     --Mark Twain

Some fun distance facts:

-If you were to head straight up from the ground, it would be at around 220 miles that you’d go into orbit.

-Virginia contains about 550 miles of the AT.

-Alaska is 1,400 miles from north to south.

-The Earth’s crust & mantle together are about 1,830 miles thick.

-The moon is 2,159 miles in diameter.

-The AT is 2,181 miles long. Woo!

Want more AT thru-hike statistics? Check out the Appalachian Trail Conservancy site: http://www.appalachiantrail.org/about-the-trail/2000-milers

Threshold of the Prelude to the Preface of the Prologue

“We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us even in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavour. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.”

-Thoreau

That’s what this is all about, I’m awake now and the dawn is rapidly approaching. Since I first got my backpack at the sporting goods store I worked at, crazy hike has followed crazy hike. Twenty plus milers? No problem! South rim of the Grand Canyon to the Colorado River and back in a day? Well why the heck not?  Two thousand miles from Maine to Georgia? Uh…duh!


I like to push myself, sometimes too far. This is where Jess comes in. I couldn’t do the Appalachian Trail without her. Not only has she done most of the planning, created this awesome website and bought all her gear from scratch: she’s my balance. Jess is the sanity to my insanity. We are the ultimate team, and the Appalachian Trail? Just our first victim.

So here we are just about two months from the beginning of our hike. It doesn’t seem real yet. We’ve got all the gear, probably too much just like everyone else. We bought or plane tickets to Maine. We’ve got a way back when we get to Georgia (thanks Alan and Amy!!!).  We’ve resigned from our jobs.

My current feelings are best illustrated by two things: 1) The part of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when Indiana Jones takes the leap of faith and just so happens to find the camouflaged bridge.

And 2) http://images.nationalgeographic.com/wpf/media-live/photos/000/321/overrides/top-ten-most-threatened-forests-mouse-lemur-madagascar_32114_600x450.jpg

                                 I’m glad you’re joining us for this grand adventure! Happy Reading!

Good morning, adventures

It’s taken me a long time to think of myself as an adventurous person. This is probably because it’s taken some living to realize how easy it is to miss out on things, and the vast quantity of things that are possible to miss out on.

One evening in high school I was sitting on my bed, halfway through a calculus problem, when I was struck with a strange revelation… I had never eaten a hamburger. But that couldn’t be right… I searched my memory, trying to think up an instance that would make this untrue… but no. I had just become the only person I knew who had never eaten a hamburger. Now this may sound like a strange story to tell you, but here’s the thing—I liked being the only person I knew who had (or in this case, had not) done a particular something. And I liked knowing that I had been doing something different from general society… even without meaning to. About four years later I lost that distinction, realizing that there are better things to be distinguished for and lots of delicious hamburgers to be eaten, but as someone who had generally tried to follow the ‘rules’ this was an okay start.

At this point in my life, I feel like the trouble with adventures has shifted further from the question of whether I am capable of taking them on to focus more on the question of when exactly there’s even time for pursue them. My twenties are speeding by so fast it’s a wonder my hair isn’t permanently stuck out behind my head. Which is, essentially, what brings us here. If we don’t do it now, then when? And so we are leaving our jobs, storing away most of our material lives, and telling friends temporary goodbyes. We’ll take along only what we can carry, give up things like regular showers, nightly TV, and an in-home washing machine, relying on our strength and endurance (physically and, I think, mentally) to get us from Maine to Georgia. It’s an unbelievably exciting challenge and a dream emerging into reality. I hope you enjoy our story!