It has been nearly nine years since I made a vow to myself to improve my work-life balance. I started to look at life differently and began to change my state of mind, inspired by a high school classmate’s open-ended journeys to South America and Southeast Asia. I was already hiking and backpacking frequently but it was time to expand on my trips and stay out longer. Years of self-growth are now harvested in the form of experiences. One such experience I have sought for some time has been a long distance hike. Finding the time and resources were a matter of... well, time. Things came together in 2022 so that I could get on the trail for more than a week; or so I thought.
I started planning a long ass section hike (LASH) on the Appalachian Trail in November 2021. A friend had mentioned her plans to start in GA in March 2022. It was then I said to myself very prophetically, "Fuck it, why don't I hike for a month?" So, spreadsheets were started and trail research was underway. I wanted to stay local as that would provide me with the easiest logistics. Growing up in New York, I have friends throughout the northeast/New England area; two of them are close to the trail in MA and VT. They would become my trail angels as I pass through their areas. My plan began to take shape: New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts ,and Vermont. I would begin in NJ two miles south of the NY border and hike to Hanover, NH just on the other side of the VT border. Four states, forty days. There were no words for the excitement and anticipation. Starting July 16th, I would proceed on a journey that was sure to further my personal growth.
The Appalachian Trail is a designated National Scenic Trail. It stretches approximately 2,190 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. It traverses the ridgelines of the Appalachian Mountains and over several peaks, particularly in the Smoky Mountains of NC and the White Mountains of NH. It would take a normal person around 6 months to complete. Ultralight hikers typically finish in 4-5 months. Lighter packs and the eventual adaptation of the body makes them efficient machines, robotically walking miles a day, day after day. I would not be one of those people. Nevertheless, I would be on the trail for weeks at a time, meeting new people and falling into an unconventional lifestyle. I would sweat and smell for days without a shower, have a very limited diet, sleep outside, use outhouses, filter water from streams, and accept the occasional kindness of strangers known as Trail Magic. Those providing the magic are known as Trail Angels. There are some who are well known in the hiker community, having opened their homes to trekkers needing a bed and shower. Others post up at parking lots or trail intersections with the things hikers need and crave - water, sodas, beer, snacks, charging stations, and a whole lot more. There are still good people in this world and you will find a lot of them in the hiker community. Long walks like this are not possible without the help of genuine souls. It takes a village to raise a child, the saying goes. Well, it takes a village to complete a long hike. Along the next 382 miles or so, I would need some of that magic.
Saturday July 16, 2022 was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm, but not humid, with a cool breeze. My stomach was in knots as I packed for my first stint on the trail. I live pretty close to the Appalachian Trail in Dutchess County, NY - so my first six days would be spent hiking home. A resupply and a zero (zero mileage day) would prepare me for the next stint. The closest trail crossing to the NY/NJ border was two miles south of NY. I began there around 10am with slightly more than 10 miles to hike to my first camp. I could not believe this was actually happening! After a strenuous but non-technical day up and down the landscape I was glad to set my pack down at the Wildcat Shelter. There were five or six other hikers already set up and I knew there were plenty more to come. Earlier in the day I came across some thru hikers at the NY/NJ border. After some small-talk several hikers took off and continued up the trail. A kind fellow named Smores had asked if I had a trail name yet. Responding in the negative and providing my government name, a gentleman by the name of No Worries yells out, "William Wallace". This, of course, was a reference to the main character in the movie Braveheart. Since I wear a kilt while hiking it seemed to make a certain sense. I smiled and remarked I had only just started and needed to think about it. William Wallace. WW. Willy Wallace. W squared. None of those versions seemed particularly appealing as I flipped through them in my mind whilst moving on the trail. About an hour later I caught up to No Worries at a water source. Filling our water storage bags side by side he asked me, "So Braveheart, have you settled on a name?" It was the first time he said "Braveheart". I had not thought of that; only silly variations of William Wallace. Two hours in and that's the trail name I get? "Uh, yea I'll take that," I replied. Braveheart. Pretty sweet!
After setting my pack down, I hung my hammock and napped. One of my favorite pastimes. Napping. It is a very underrated hobby. When I decided to rise from said nap, there were lots of other hikers who had arrived and set up. The first dinner was dehydrated chili. I must be careful about my diet so I make as much of my trail food as I can. Dehydrating is one of the best and easiest ways to take some of your favorite meals and snacks on the trail. Having completed my dinner I wandered over to a group of hikers gathered around a fire to converse about the day and the upcoming miles. Goober and Tenacity are the only two names I can remember. Goober had injured himself (I think) and had just gotten back on the trail. He started in Georgia in March. Tenacity was on her third consecutive attempt to hike the trail end to end in one trip. The previous two attempts had ended in injury. Having made it to NY, she had a good chance of finishing this year. I hope she makes it!
My second day on the trail did not start well. I suppose it was a sign, but I didn't know it at the time. I have medications I am supposed to take in the evening. (It is the 2nd of 2 daily doses). Metformin, when taken as directed, will help regulate my blood glucose levels. If my sugar gets out of whack, I go through an episode of sweats. This is what happened on the first morning. I took my medication a bit later than usual the previous evening. At around 5am, I woke to relieve myself, and upon getting back in my hammock, the sweat broke out. I was in too much of a panic to get my glucose meter and check it, so I laid down and rode it out. Hours later I woke, quite soaked with sweat. Unlike the other times this happened, I had managed to stay calm and take my time despite being way behind schedule on a 14+ mile day. As that day's trek moved forward, my hydration remained stagnant. Water was scarce and I was really feeling weak after 10 miles with little water remaining. It was four more miles to the Fingerboard shelter in Harriman State Park and I knew those miles well. I was not going to make camp. I decided to call for a taxi and book a hotel room five miles north of the trail. I felt defeated having not completed the day's miles but I knew continuing on was not a good idea. On only the second night I was grabbing a room? I was not happy about this but a shower and bed provided me with a small amount of solace. I am very hard on myself when it comes to hiking. When I make a plan and set a goal only to fail. It's like I have compromised my integrity. However, my well-being is far more important than my pride.
Checking in at the motel was easy and I was off to my room, which was on the ground floor thank goodness. I unpacked and took a nice hot shower. Having gone to a nearby deli for a sandwich, I settled in and struggled to find something watchable on TV. Not long after my post-meal joint, I received a phone call from my half-brother Joe. I let it go to voicemail and figured I'd call him back. Before I could do that, my other half-brother called me. This time I answered, and it is not good news. They were calling me to tell me that our dad had died in his sleep in the early hours of the day. I stood frozen, mouth agape, speechless. For nearly 30 seconds I said nothing as I heard my brother sobbing on the other end of the line. "I'm coming home. I'll be in Queens tomorrow". On the second day of my hike, my father Rafael had died at the age of 70. It was a devastating loss. I was driven home that night by a good friend and the next day and I was indeed in Queens with my brothers. I would remain with them for the next week while learning of my father's last wishes and the process needed to close his estate.
Spending a week off trail mourning the loss of a parent is by no means a long amount of time, but I felt I needed to get back to the trail. There was nothing that could be or needed to be done at the time. To make this trip happen I took an unpaid leave of absence from my employer for six weeks. I had supplied myself with six weeks worth of hiking food. What was I supposed to do with it? Should I go back to work? Should I sit home and mourn? And how does one mourn? What is the act of mourning? I don't know, because I have never had to do so before. This is new life territory for me, and I have to adapt. At that point in time I knew the best decision was to hike.
On Tuesday, July 26th I got back on the trail at Seven Lakes Drive, just south of Bear Mountain. Having already hiked the majority of the Appalachian Trail through Harriman State Park, I skipped ahead to stay on my "schedule". I would make it 42+ miles before leaving the trail again. It seemed my long ass section hike was going to be a bunch of small ass section hikes.
On my first day back on the trail, I was sitting at a water source (the first in a while) when an older hiker approached. His name was Optimist (government name: Larry). This struck me. My Uncle Larry, my dad's best friend for 50+ years, was the executor of the will. Larry was 71; my dad would have been 71 at the end of my hike on August 28. I stored that information away as Larry and I set off together after drinking our fills and topping off our water. As our paces differed, we would leapfrog each other for a while. As I rested, he'd pass. As he rested, I'd pass. I would wait for him at trail junctions and road crossings. It was the first day of his section hike, and it had not gone well. He'd gone off trail and ascended steeper than necessary terrain. When he reached me at the water source he was down to his last sip of water and was glad to see another hiker. The goal that day was to reach the Holy Mountain Franciscan Retreat in Garrison, NY. They have been allowing hikers to use their baseball field and surrounding area for camping while passing through on the trail since the 1970’s. It is an extra walk off the trail but well worth it. For ground dwellers (tents) there were plenty of flat area to mark your territory. Space for hammocke'rs though? Not so much. But it was easy to make due. The retreat center provides portable toilets, a (cold) shower station, and a sink and spigot for drinking water, washing dishes, etc. Almost as good as a hotel room, for a hiker. That night, I would meet several hikers that Optimist and I would leapfrog for the next few days.
Today was a good day. The three days that followed were transformative. I met so many people, and through their interactions, learned so much. Everyone has different viewpoints and they all come from different generations. Hikers from all walks of life are on the trail for different reasons. Every journey is complex and personal. After leaving the trail again for a few days, I would finish the New York section of the Appalachian Trail with a day hike on Monday, August 1st. The following day, I began hiking in Connecticut from Falls Village. In 2021, I hiked the first 38+ miles of the Connecticut section. Having been off trail for many days thus far, I skipped this section and planned to finish Connecticut with a 12+ mile day. I would only make it six miles before my inner grief spilled out at various levels for almost 30 minutes. The previous day, I hiked alone and did not camp. It was an easy day and I breezed right through it. This day was to finish at camp just over the Massachusetts line, and the next day into Great Barrington when I would step off trail yet again. After just six miles, knowing I was headed to camp, the thought of hiking and camping alone did not sit well in my stomach. Those that I met and hiked with before were a long way north. The stress of my dad's passing was too much to handle alone on the trail I've weathered many stress storms while solo backpacking, but this one was too severe.
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| Bear Mountain Bridge, Bear Mountain, NY |
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| The Dover Oak, Pawling NY |
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| The Dutchess County countryside |
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| Moo Cows! |
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| Entering New England! |
My section hike having been tragically ruined, I only managed four consecutive days of hiking and a total of 77-80 miles of my intended 382. In those four days however, I got my trail legs (day four), met some daring and resilient people, and felt like I belonged there. I would like to recognize the following hikers, whose company and banter helped me through an incredibly difficult time. Optimist, Reiding Couch, Jazz-E, Double Trouble, Casserole, Newfound, Lone Wolf, Baseball, Chilly, Sunshine and Key Lime. I hope to see you all again on the trail.
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| Reiding Couch (Reid), Optimist (Larry), and myself |
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