April 2, 2011 -- Tonight I will camp atop Springer Mountain in the north Georgia woods and tomorrow I head to Maine on foot, backpacking toward Mount Katahdin, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail .
God willing, I will reach Katahdin in September, averaging 12-15 miles a day for six months and camping alone in a small tent or with others in primitive shelters along a storied footpath that stretches more than 2,150 miles through 14 states.
Experience tells me that the woods can change you; so can the extreme physical, psychological and spiritual challenges that come along with isolation, exhaustion, doubt, pain and wonder while trekking through thick forests and up and down mountains toting food and shelter and the ‘comforts’ of life on the trail.
I am going alone, but I will not lack for company along the way. On any spring day 20 or more “thru-hikers” leave Springer, the AT’s southern end, hoping to go the distance. Last year about 1500 started the journey, about half of them made it halfway, to Harpers Ferry , W.VA. Georgia made it to Maine
You never know what is going to happen when you step into a forest for a wilderness hike. Nature has its way of taking charge; fate and karma can trump stubbornness and dogged determination. But God knows I will not be the same man at the end of this adventure that I am now.
This long walk means leaving much of the so-called real world behind and even taking on a trail name known to others who will cover the same ground, boulder-hop the same streams and struggle over the same blown down trees that will sometimes block our way.
I will hike as Grasshopper, continuing my spiritual journey that began last summer at Mepkin Abbey and pursuing the physical, mental and spiritual challenges of a martial arts student who needs patience, must work hard, and will always have much to learn.
Backpacking is not for everyone, of course, and I join a quirky community of hikers who bring all sorts of motivations and goals to the trail. Some are attracted by the fantasy and romance associated with “hiking the Appalachian Trail .” Some hike to lose weight, some to walk off grief, personal despair, or disappointment; others celebrate a transition from one stage of life to another.
Others come to the woods (or imagine doing so) hoping to escape their own reality. One well-known governor lied about hiking the AT to disappear, escaping his wife, sons, and his office to meet his lover in Argentina
Why me? Why now? A bit of all of that, I suppose, except for the weight loss and the Argentine duplicity.
My recent wanderings have been spiritual, professional, and personal, but my challenges are no different than those faced by many other folks. I have gone through multiple layoffs, and fought hard to re-start my career, putting my credentials, talents, and life’s work on the line in search of a paycheck, a challenge, approval, and validation.
Continued rejection and disappointment have fueled frustration and anger. And doubt.
I have found solace and direction in my faith and on retreat at Mepkin Abbey. Time with the monks and their simplicity, discipline, prayer, and meditation brought me comfort and clarity. I have found release, discipline, and balance in the dojo, where my martial arts training and workouts with friends have both humbled me and renewed my self-confidence and strengthened my body, my mind and my spirit.
I now head into the woods.
Simply put, I now go walking because I can, and because I feel compelled to follow this path to discovery and survival.
I am a seasoned hiker and backpacker, both in age and experience, and I choose to attempt a thru-hike because the stars and circumstance are aligned to give me the time, freedom, and motivation to take on the challenge of a lifetime.
I have never gone past two weeks in the woods, but have long wondered what it would be like to stay out – to re-supply, and just keep going. Now, in a life controlled in so many ways by the employment whims of others, this is my chance to take my future in my own hands and, quite literally, on my back.
If I do not go now, a new job or some infirmity will get in the way and I may never again have the chance to disappear into the woods for the long walk to Katahdin.
Life’s twists, turns, and ironies have made me a far different man than the one who has gone hiking before. I look forward – with a bit of expected trepidation – to see how Grasshopper fares and who he becomes as the “real world” gives way to life in the woods.
And, I will keep on keeping on, finding time at re-supply points and during breaks from the trail to scour the job boards and Internet sites, looking for the right opportunity to again use the skills honed through a lifetime writing stories and crafting and sharing messages.
I will rise with the sun, pack up and start hiking, day after day, knocking off mile after mile, heading north as far as my legs, my heart and my spirit will take me – perhaps even to Katahdin, if it is His will, and mine.
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