Day 1

03/01/12 - Springer Mountain Shelter - 0.2 miles

Started off this morning from the Amicalola Falls Visitor Center.  Hiked with the parents up the falls until Bruce had to leave.  Continued on up with Mom, Dad, and Glenda.  After one mile or so on the approach trail, we parted ways and were off.  I am so sore right now.  Those nine miles to Springer Mountain were brutal.  Though we are fresh noobs at this point.  Kept thinking we were approaching Springer... kept watching the mountain summits come and go.  When we did finally reach Springer, Mom, Dad, and Glenda were there to surprise us.  We signed the trail journal in the rock and were off [to the shelter].  One full day of hiking – only .2 miles on the AT.

***

As a side note, I typically wrote each entry just before bed every evening.  And at times I would make an addition to the entry the following morning if something crazy happened during the night.

As a second side note, today being the anniversary of our start date, I found it very difficult being in an office all day sandwiched by three hours of rush hour traffic.

Day 0

02/29/12 - Acworth, GA - 0 miles

I am literally cramming my gear into my pack trying to fit everything.  Not finished yet, and it's getting late.

***

This first entry of our 178 day journey makes me laugh a lot.
 

Longing

Five days until we begin our thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail.

That's what we were saying at this time last year.  Five more days to wind things down and make some final preparations before setting forth.

I cannot believe it has already been one year since we began that journey.  The feelings I have now are surreal and reminiscent.  I was speaking with Anna about it the other day (as we do most days), and the best way I could describe my emotions was to compare the Trail to a loved one.  Being away, either physically or emotionally, from someone you love.  You long to be with that person again.  To hold them.  Kiss them.  Talk with them.  Be with them.

My intent is not to be an emo over here.  Life is still wonderful, and there is so much that I am currently thankful and happy for.  So much!

That being said, I am eternally grateful for our time on the Appalachian Trail.  There is nothing in my life that has compared to those memories, and since we are coming up on our one year "setting forth" anniversary, I wanted to give you kind people a fair warning:

Brace yourselves.

WalkOutside posts are coming.

Probably daily.

My desire is to share a piece of my personal AT journal for each day we were on the Trail.  Not everything.  Maybe just a sentence or two.  I invite you all to read it and follow along as you did with us on the Trail, but I do not expect anything from you.  I will not be hurt if you don't read or don't comment or don't care.  Because this, in a lot of ways, is for me.

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I type this even now.

I believe it's important and beneficial to look back on our lives and see where we've come from and what we've accomplished.  To remember and reinspire.

I'm looking forward to reopening that mud-stained moleskine journal and revisiting Appalachia once again.

 

Near Woody Gap, GA

 

Panther Creek Falls

"and the sun, it does not cause us to grow
it is the rain that will strengthen your soul
and it will make you whole"
 - The Oh Hellos "I Have Made Mistakes"

I have been listening to their album, Through the Deep, Dark Valley, almost nonstop these past few days thanks to my sister's recommendation.  Good stuff.  Especially while driving to North Georgia on a misty Thursday morning.  I decided to make a short getaway to the Cohutta Wilderness in Georgia's Chattahoochee National Forest.

I needed to breathe that sweet mountain air.

I'm starting a new job this coming week, and though I'm very much excited about it and looking forward to having a steady schedule with free weekends... I wanted some time with the trees before diving in.

I had not been camping since the Trail.  The last time I was in a tent was in Baxter State Park, Maine, the night before climbing Mount Katahdin.  It had been too long, and my heart was racing as I prepared my gear.

Everything brought back fond memories of our time on the Appalachian Trail.

My packing routine.
The smell of my pack and rain jacket.
Lacing my boots.
The grip of my trekking poles.
The smoke of a campfire mixed with wet soil and leaves.
The pitter patter of rain against my tent.
Reading my Kindle while wearing four layers of warmth.
Bear bagging my food.
Wading across frigid water.
Purifying my water in a cold stream.
Even the pain in my legs and feet reminded me of the pain we felt on the Trail.

I hiked to a spot my father and brother and I frequently visit when camping in the Cohutta.  Panther Creek Falls.  It can be a strenuous hike but has a rewarding view once you arrive.  I camped right at the top of the falls (only about a tenth of a mile from where Anna and I camped during our only practice overnight before the thru-hike).  It rained on me almost the entire time with the exception of the last couple hours as I hiked back to my car.  Very appropriate, I believe.

The rain reminds me of what I have.  Even on a short excursion like this, I was looking forward to a hot meal and shower when I returned home.

I want more constant reminders of how good I really have it.  I think going into the woods helps put things in a bit of perspective.  That's something I could really take away from thru-hiking the AT.  When you have less, you appreciate more.

If it is always sunny, how will we grow?

Horatius' Speech

Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods 
- Thomas Macaulay

Colonel Daniel McCook Jr. loudly recited this poem to his Union troops before leading them into battle at Cheatham Hill, near Kennesaw Mountain.  He was mortally wounded in the attack.

I've been to the Illinois Monument many times before, but I do not remember reading about this part of the story.  It reminds me of a Jack London short story, The God Of His Fathers.  If you have some spare time, I really encourage you to read it.

As I reflected on McCook's final encouragement to his soldiers, a stunning golden sun set over Cheatham Hill, staining the vivid blue sky with reds, yellows, and oranges.  I thought about the men who died here.  Hundreds of men died right where I was sitting.  Many were far from home.

It's hard to imagine a time in recent history when our country was actually two separate nations.

Rain

I drove over to Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park this morning for sunrise.  As I approached the parking lot, I could see a fiery horizon through the trees.  I parked the car, and it immediately began to rain.  First a soft and steady rain and then intensifying into a pour.

I love days like this.

However, I have a new perspective on days like this.

I remember being on the Trail with Anna and looking at the weather forecast whenever we had cell reception.  I would pull up the Weather Channel app and see the "chance of rain" and sometimes just stare at it.

It makes me laugh, a little, remembering the relentless rain and thunderstorms we endured out in the open often without any shelter nearby.  I remember waking up on some mornings to a rainstorm outside my tent.  We would check the weather if we were able to, and a lot of the time the hourly forecast showed that little thundercloud all the way down the page.  We often packed up our gear in the rain and started hiking into the cold wet.

It's definitely nice and cozy to be looking out my window as the storm goes by, but at the same time, I'm thankful for the memories of being in the storm.

"From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work."
Psalm 104:13

 

July 1, near Kent, CT

 

Ktaadn

Anna climbs the "Greatest Mountain," finishing the last few miles of the Appalachian Trail.