May 25, 2014
I left the interstate for the backwoods (or so it
seemed) of Maryland on a Sunday afternoon, easing my way along curving two-lane
roads surrounded by green. Twice I had to ask directions, the first time
flagging down a car going the opposite way and the second time idling outside a
yard to call to the owner. Finally I spotted the turn for my destination, a
conference center situated on two hundred acres an hour and a half northwest of
Washington, D.C.
I had signed up to hike the Appalachian Trail in
four states. It was a six-day program designed for 24 of us older people. The
activity was rated “Challenging,” but what did that mean? Was it simply an
oxymoron? How fit did I have to be in order to hike the Trail in a group of
senior citizens?
I had been fascinated with the Appalachian Trail for
a year, hooked initially by Wild,
Cheryl Strayed’s tale of hiking alone on the Pacific Crest Trail. I’d
subsequently collected and read more than 25 books about the AT and had spent a
weekend backpacking in the woods of Georgia in a guided group. I’d registered for
this group hike in Maryland months ago.
In this instance, “hike” meant that we would
day-hike, leaving the conference center every morning at 8:30 to be driven to a
different trailhead. We would hike until 3:00 or 4:00 p.m. and be picked up by
the vans at the other end. The hikes for the week were from 6.5 to 9.7 miles
each.
Our meals were provided, including lunches we packed
ourselves from a food selection laid out every morning on one of the round
dining tables. Breakfast and dinner were buffet style.
Supper the first night was two kinds of fish,
broccoli, mac and cheese, and pumpkin pie for dessert. A salad bar was a staple
for those with better constitutions than mine. I’d suffered intense stomach cramps
before the trip and had barely eaten in three days.
Every evening after dinner we were treated to a
program. The first night it was a talk by a member of the Appalachian Trail
Conservancy. Before that talk began, we took turns standing in front of the
group to introduce ourselves. Each of us put a push pin in a U.S. map to mark our
town or city. My group for the week consisted of three couples who signed up together,
five single women, and a few couples who did not know one another before their
arrival.
Before registering for the trip, I’d wondered about my
ability to take on this series of hikes. I wanted badly to experience the
Appalachian Trail, so I signed up and then began walking at home. In March I
started weekly physical fitness sessions with a trainer. “Get me ready” was my
simple plea. She worked on my core strength as well as that in my arms and legs,
with less than two months to make me hike-worthy.
Maybe you’ve sized up the other members of a group
and compared them to yourself for reassurance. I already knew my co-hikers were
nice people, but what was their potential to climb mountains, compared to mine?
Some were experienced hikers. I didn’t want to be the one they waited for once
we got on the Trail.
You know how this goes. You look at your hike-mates
and think, landing on one: If he or she
can make it, surely I can. We all do it, but in reality—and in a group as fit
as ours--it is difficult to tell another person’s level of stamina. You might
be dead wrong, as I was. Every day some of those folks passed me like I was
standing still. Okay, I was standing
still.
Stay
tuned for the next installment: hiking the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania, a
state known for rocks, rocks, and more rocks. Our first hike would begin at Caledonia
State Park and end at Pine Grove Furnace, a distance of about 8.5 miles.
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