We Hiked the Appalachian Trail!

Well, okay, not quite all of it. About six miles of it.

Well, okay, not exactly six miles of it. Three miles out and back, so six miles total. But we did hike on it and it was awesome.

The A.T., as we experienced hikers call it, is the 2,200-mile footpath that runs through 14 states from Springer Mountain in the Chattahoochee-Oconee National Forest in Georgia to the summit of Mount Katahdin in Maine’s Baxter State Park.

Donna and I, taking advantage of perfect fall weather, made the one-hour drive to Washington Monument State Park near Boonsboro, Maryland on a recent morning. The park had three lures for us: interest in seeing the beautiful vistas from Washington Monument, a 40-foot stone tower erected by residents in 1827 to honor the first U.S. president; proximity to quaint Boonsboro, which we had visited before; and access to the A.T.

The location of the tower, a half-mile or less from the parking lot, does indeed provide terrific views from atop South Mountain. Two historical anecdotes:

• Owen Brown, son of Abolitionist John Brown and a participant in his father’s infamous raid on the Harper’s Ferry armory, on the night of October 23, 1859 led a party of raid survivors to South Mountain, 17 miles away, and stumbled upon the tower.
• According to placards there, during the Civil War Confederate troops saw activity on the tower and went to attack, only to see that it was curious locals, not combatants, watching the skirmishes below. Catastrophe averted.

From the tower it was a short walk to access the A.T. I was giddy at actually being on it. When I was a senior in college, a friend and I had briefly discussed doing the entire hike after graduation but the idea never got beyond the germination phase; it died on the vine. I ended up driving cross-country with a collection of friends and acquaintances, a fulsome life experience for sure, but in the deep core of my consciousness I’ve regretted not choosing the hike. How would that have changed my life's arc? The answer, as to all of life's what-ifs, is it's unknowable.

The part of the trail we were on was much narrower than I imagined, and mostly closed in by lush foliage – trees, bushes, ferns – I can’t name. We chose to go north and descended the mountain, knowing we would have an arduous climb back to the car. The trail was well-maintained – it was built and is still maintained largely by volunteers (we encountered a crew repairing a rocky patch), with logs and large rocks serving as steps where needed. Some sections were rocky and steep, others flat and sandy, some would allow for walking two abreast, much was single-file only.

We met a few south-bound hikers with full packs and hiking poles; I wanted to ask them about their journey but they seemed more intent on hiking than stopping to regale us.

Our return was challenging as we had expected. Our hearts were pounding as we made the final ascent to the cutoff to the parking lot but as we made our way to the car we were elated at our accomplishment. We pulled off our boots, drove down to Boonsboro, and treated ourselves to a sumptuous lunch.

Our taste of the A.T. has only whetted our appetite for more. Do we try an overnight? The entire 40-mile Maryland portion that would require three or four nights of camping? Our only experience with camping, down the Grand Canyon with three others when we were a few years younger, included a guide who carried our food, showed us how to pitch a tent, and made sure we didn’t do anything stupid; mules hauled tents, sleeping bags, and other equipment. We carried snacks, water, and toiletries.

We are cognizant of the limited time we have to do the things we have dreamed of doing. Whatever we choose to do next, we will do it with gusto, savor every minute, and try, at the end, to have as few regrets as possible.

.