Hiking the Appalachian Trail: A Story in Postcards

The postcard reads:

Amicalola Falls State Park
Star Route, Box 213
Dawsonville, Georgia 30534

Amicalola is a Cherokee word meaning "tumbling waters." The park's beautiful falls plunge 729 feet in seven cascades. As one of the seven wonders of Georgia, Amicalola is the highest waterfall east of the Mississippi. The park consists of more than 700 acres of mostly hardwoods. The park offers camping, rental cottages and a 57-room lodge, conference and restaurant facility.

Photos by Jim Jordan and Courtesy Amicalola Falls State Park

And I wrote:

Hi, ya'll!

I'm here at the park with Kathy and Joe, ready to start the approach trail at dawn. Only 2,180 miles to go! I'll be in touch soon. Having a blast already!

Love,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of sleeping under the stars the night before I began my hike; although, I wasn't able to do much sleeping. All I could think about, as I stared at a twinkling sky through bare branches, was that the journey I'd dreamed about for more than a decade was about to begin. (That and how badly I had to pee. But it was so cold that night, so I didn't want to get out of my sleeping bag.)

The plaque on Springer Mountain and the first white blaze (upper-left)

The postcard reads:

The Appalachian Trail is a mountain footpath extending 2000 miles from Georgia to Maine. Springer Mountain, Georgia is the Southern Terminus and Mt. Katahdin, Maine is the Northern Terminus.

Photos © Mt. Katahdin-Rhodora C. Paul Knaut jr.
Baxter Peak Plaque © Robert Villani

I wrote:

Hi from Neel's Gap, Georgia (A.T. mile 30.7, plus our 8-mile approach trail).

Having a great time with Joe (now known as Joker), Marie and our new companion, Grumpy, from Groton, CT, who isn't grumpy at all. Heading out on the trail again in a few minutes. 36 miles to our next town stop at Hiawassee, GA. We're aiming to get there Sunday eve or Monday.

Talk you then!

Love,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of giggling at the silly practical joke Marie and I played on our hiking buddy, Joker -- a little turning of the tables. We'd slipped a cast iron frying pan from the Goose Creek Cabins into his backpack. Of course, he realized what we'd done as soon as he put the pack on and took a few steps towards the door, so we did return the frying pan.

Joker and Grumpy goofing around at Goose Creek Cabins with some borrowed Safari hats

The postcard reads:

Rainbow Springs Campground
1626 Old Murphy Rd.
Franklin, NC 28734

I wrote:

Just talked to you by phone from A.T. mile 103. About to cook spaghetti and meat sauce in the cabin kitchen, then reorganize my backpack (again). Next stop is the Nantahala Outdoor Center in Wesser, NC (31 miles) in about 3 days, then Fontana Dam another 30 some-odd miles past that, and then the Great Smoky Mountains!

Thought you'd like this postcard better than one of those pretty pictures.

Love you,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of how hard it poured while we were staying at the campground, happily dry in the cabin. I also remember lying in my tent the night after leaving Rainbow Springs, eating grape Tangy Taffy.

I'll never forget the rain, rain and more rain ... and mud!

The postcard reads:

Mount LeConte is a favorite spot for hikers and backpackers with many trails to entice the outdoor enthusiast. At the summit, the visitor can experience a spectacular wilderness vision.

Photo by Adam Jones

I wrote:

Taking a full day off in Fontana Dam before entering Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Jeff and Nancy Hoch are wonderful hosts here at the Hike Inn. This was a perfect choice for our first zero-mile day. Grumpy and Joker are sharing a room, while I'm sharing with Marie. There's a full house of thru-hikers. Got a phone call from Kathy, who tracked us down through Steve. Having a great time and seeing definite improvement in fitness. Yay!

Love you!
Deb

It's kinda funny, because Mt. LeConte isn't actually on the A.T. (and I'm not even sure if I saw it), but at any rate ... this postcard reminds me that Marie and I watched a Tina Turner concert on the small hotel tv while we reorganized our packs. We had gear spread out all over the room. I also remember playing with the kittens hanging around the motel.

The Hike Inn sign: AT Service & Shuttle, Welcome Millenium Thru-Hikers

The postcard reads:

Gatlinburg, Tennessee
Gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

Heavy cloud cover rolls over the mountains to surround the city with a blanket of white.

I wrote:

Hi Ma 'n' Pa:

Leaving Gatlinburg in a few minutes to hike back into the Smokies. We're watching the weather channel, and the forecast seems to change every fifteen minutes. Looks like more rain in store. Whoopie! Should be at our next resupply point in 3 or 4 days and in Hot Springs, NC in about a week. Thinking of taking another rest-day there perhaps.

Talk to you soon.

Love,
Deb

This postcard reminds me about having just encountered the odd man in the red pants we eventually dubbed "Screamer." If you'd like to read the story I wrote about this most interesting character, click here but be sure to come back when you're done.

The Man Called "Screamer"

The postcard reads:

For over sixty years, hikers have passed through on the Appalachian Trail, a continuous footpath stretching 2,161 miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia, to Mt. Katahdin, Maine.

(Total trail mileage has changed over the years due to re-routes.)

I wrote:

Hi, ya'll....

At mile 270.5 (exactly 1/8 of the A.T.) I'll increase my average daily mileage when I leave here. Getting in great shape, so the hiking is easier. Joker, Marie and I are sitting at a picnic table, babbling and writing by headlamp. Town (and hotels) are full of thru-hikers, so we're at the campground tonight. Taking a day off tomorrow and will soak in the hot springs. I'm looking svelter each day. Lost 10 lbs. so far. Yay! Next stop: Erwin, TN in 5 or 6 days.

Love ya,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of the tough decision I made to hike on without my friends, Joker and Marie, when they decided to remain in Hot Springs for a second full day. My gut told me to keep hiking -- it's what I wanted to do -- so I said goodbye and "hope to see you soon" to two great companions and continued on by myself.

I remember passing through this meadow as I hiked out of Hot Springs alone.

The postcards reads:

Wood's Hole
3696 Sugar Run Rd.
Pearisburg, VA 24134

I wrote:

Hi, youz:

The hostel pictured on the front is at mile 607. Twelve of us stayed here for free last night in this 1880 homestead, owned by Tilie Wood. She spends her summers here and takes in thru-hikers and feeds them breakfast, too. Her now-deceased husband found the dilapidated place in the 1940's while studying a herd of elk (wapiti) in the area. They rented the place for $5 for the year, fixed it up and bought it and 100 acres for $300, then sold some dead (now-extinct) American chestnut on the land for $1400. Time to pack up and walk 10 miles to Pearisburg, VA.

Love you,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of playing with Tillie Wood's new puppy, "Oddly," before breakfast, then making a beeline for Tillie's dining room table when the breakfast bell rang. Several of us chatted with our host as we filled our hungy hiker bellies with scrambled eggs, gritts and hot dogs, while learning about the handmade quilt hanging on the dining room wall.

The bunkhouse at Wood's Hole: a homey place for a rest

The postcard reads:

A black bear (Ursus americanus) finds refuge in the crook of a tree branch, Shenandoah National Park, Virginia.

Photographer-Daniel J. Cox

I wrote:

Hi, ya'll....

Soon it will be "hi, you'ns" when I get to PA, but that's about 10 days away. Many of my likewise smelly but svelt companions have seen the critter on the front of this postcard, but I'm still waiting for my first teddy bear sighting. We hiked 4 miles, then stopped at Skyland for breakfast. We ate, we sat, and now we're having lunch here, too. Then we'll sit some more and hike 10 miles to the shelter ... unless we end up here for dinner too.

Love you!
Deb

This postcard can't help but make me think about the story idea I came up with while hiking through Shenandoah National Park, thanks to my trail companion, Split P. You can read "Hiking My Way to a Novel" if you'd like to know more about the creative journey I took on the rest of my A.T. hike.

On the trail in the Shenandoahs

The postcard reads:

ATC's Bears Den Hostel
Bluemont, Virginia
540-554-8708

Bears Den Hostel is next to the world-famous Appalachian Trail and overlooks the scenic Shenandoah Valley 19 miles west of Leesburg, Virginia. Owned and operated by the Appalachian Trail Conference, 304-535-6331.

I wrote:

Hi Ma, Hi Pa!

This is the BEST place. Caretakers Mel and Patti are really treating us well. What a perfect place to take a day and a half off. We went to a movie ("Frequency") and browsed in a bookstore. Split P bought a crossword puzzle book for us to do together. We're now eating Ben & Jerry's ice cream to celebrate the 28 lbs. I've lost (which maybe is now only 27).

Love you,
A Skinnier Me

Well, nearly every postcard reminds me of eating ice cream, which I did a lot of during my thru-hike at every possible opportunity. But this one also reminds me of sitting on the floor of the bunkroom, playing Taboo with other hikers. Oh, and I remember Split P borrowing some of the hostel's loaner clothes after her very long hiker-shower. She wore fringed hippie shorts and teased her kinky-curly hair into an afro. As for me and my own long hiker-shower, I remember realizing after the fact that I'd neglected to scrub my mud-caked calves. Oops.

My silly hiking buddy, Split P

The postcard reads:

Top: Jefferson Rock; John Brown Fort
Middle: Railroad Bridge & Tunnel, Saint Peters Roman Catholic Church; Wagon
Bottom: High St.; John's Episcopal Church Ruins; High St.

I wrote:

Hello to you!

I'm actually in PA already, just about to pass the true halfway point of the trail after lunch today. I thought I'd send this postcard from what many consider to be the psychological halfway point: the home of the Appalachian Trail Conference and the point where we've now hiked 1,000 miles--Harpers Ferry, WV. I'll have to go back again sometime to take a closer look at the historical town, since it's not all that far from home (couple hours or so). The trail since Harpers Ferry has been some of the "easier" hiking, but the infamous PA rocks will soon be starting. Looking forward to seeing Steve on 7/4 in Duncannon. K, time for a burger and fries.

Love you,
Deb

This postcard reminds me of the "Half-Gallon Challenge" that many thru-hikers undertake at the store near the actual halfway point of the trail. That's a half-gallon of ice cream, mind you. I actually didn't do it--only ate a pint, myself--but I remember Turbo Turtle pulling up his shirt and sticking out his still-skinny belly after downing a half-gallon of Moose Tracks (about 5,000 calories!) while I did pushups next to the table. You can read more about the Half-Gallon Challenge and other A.T. traditions in "Hiking The Appalachian Trail: What You Really Need To Know."

Turbo Turtle post-Half-Gallon Challenge

The postcard reads:

Morning mist covers the landscape in this summer scene in the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania.

Printed in Germany
Photo ©1997 John Beale

I wrote:

Hi, you'ns....

Betcha can't guess where I am! Hint: I'm 1,200 miles north of where I started walking. Can you believe it? Well, I can when I stand on the scale. I haven't weighed this much (or little rather) for three years or more. Yay!! Looks like we'll be in CT or MA by the end of July and summitting Katahdin by the end of September. Tonight, however, we're in the metropolis of Port Clinton, PA, population 300. Back out on the very rocky trail tomorrow with a full supply of Hostess Ring-Dings. Hope you had lots of fun on your adventure, Ma.

Love you both,
Deb

I remember the old-time boarding house I stayed at in Port Clinton, where the bathroom was down the hall. I remember the musty smell of the room. This postcard also reminds me of how some strangers gave us a ride to the Cracker Barrell restaurant. They had one of those large poodles in the backseat. She was pure white, perfectly groomed, and so dainty.

And who can forget the Pennsylvania rocks? Ouch!
Believe it or not, that is the trail.

The postcard reads:

Delaware Water Gap
Pennsylvania and New Jersey

This aerial view shows a portion of the village of Delaware Water Gap, PA, Interstate 80 crossing the Delaware River connecting New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the mountains of the Gap towering 1,600 feet above the Delaware.

Photography by Al Koster

I wrote:

Herro....

Ten thru-hikers (including me) are lounging around in the free Church of the Mountain Hostel in the easy chairs and couches. After a breakfast of Belgian Waffles tomorrow, we'll hike over the bridge into New Jersey and go ten miles to Mohican Outdoor Center for a day off on Sunday. Kathy is out with me for a week and has made herself quite at home on the trail with all the thru-hikers. Seeing the photos of me she took at the beginning really show the 34 pounds I've lost. Well, the church bell just bonged nine times--past a thru-hiker's bed time.

Night, night!
Deb

Ah, the Belgian waffles. I remember that breakfast well. Actually, I seem to remember many of the meals I ate along the way. Food was a big deal on the trail. And being able to eat lots of it and still lose weight ... now that's livin'!

Adding to the cairns just past Delaware Water Gap

The postcard reads:

An evening view of Manhattan with the Brooklyn Bridge spanning the East River. The famous Pier 17 can be seen on the river front.

Photo ©Pendor Natural Color

I wrote:

Hi, youz....

Took me a fun field trip to the Big MacIntosh. Tonight, by contrast, I dined with Franciscan friars and Carmelite nuns at Graymoor Friary in New York, just off the trail. The white blazes took us through a zoo today and then over the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge. Three more days until Kent, CT. I'm now going to take refuge in my tent from hungry skeeters out here on the friars' ballfield, where we're camping.

Love you!
Deb

New York City was such a fun side-trip. On the trail one minute, then on a bus, then "hiking" through the subway tunnel with our backpacks and muddy gaiters. Usually New Yorkers don't look at other people funny, because weirdness is a way of life there, right? Well, I guess seeing (and smelling) hikers with large backpacks, hiking sticks and dirty calves was a little too weird, because people sure did stare. I remember waking up the next morning in a friend of a friend's apartment on the Upper East Side, all clean in a soft white bed, looking up to see the NYC skyline through the big picture window. That night, I was back on the trail in my tent.

Hiking through the subway station
(See that guy in the blue shirt, to the right? He's starin'.)

The postcard reads:

Connecticut's 5000 square miles is in southern New England, between NY on the west, R.I. on the east, Mass. on the north and the Atlantic waters on the south. This Indian name means "upon a long river." The State flower is the laurel; the bird is the robin; the tree is the white oak.

I wrote:

Hi, Ma 'n' Pa...

I'm actually sending this from Dalton, MA. Connecticut went by so quickly, and, before I knew it, I was in the mud, muck and mosquito-filled state of Mass. Crossed the MA Turnpike yesterday. We'll be in Vermont in just a couple of days. Maybe then we'll see the sun. It's good to be back in New England, though, with 618.5 miles to go. In the beginning, 618 was huge. Now, it feels like the home stretch. Looking forward to coming home for a visit.

Love you!
Deb

This postcard reminds me of being taken in for a night in Massachusetts by a vegan family, who fed us "fake" scrambled eggs -- made of tofu, I guess -- with tomatoes and cucumbers. They lived in a log cabin, and several of us slept in their living room. The next morning, before heading back to the trail, I remember Split P holding up a pretty sundress she found on a sidewalk sale rack. She missed girly clothes, she said.

Northern hospitality: breakfast at Tevi's in Falls Village, CT

The postcard reads:

Situated atop the 3,491 ft. summit of Massachusett's highest peak, Mount Greylock, rustic Bascom Lodge has hosted countless numbers of Appalachian Trail hikers, automobile tourists, and nature buffs since it was built in the 1930s. Managed by the Appalachian Mt. Club and Dept. of Environmental Management, it is the educational, recreational, and hospitality hub of the over 10,000-acre state reservation which boasts an abundance of hiking trails, waterfalls, unique natural sites, and a scenic campground. Lodge open May-Oct.

Mount Greylock, Massachusetts
in the Berkshires

Photography by Jean McAlister

I wrote:

Hi again!

See where that person is sitting in the picture? Well, that's where I am, up here on Mt. Greylock. Yet another mountain where hikers, bikers and drivers converge on the summit. When I leave here in a few minutes, I'll hike down the mountain, past No. Adams, MA, past the MA/VT line and to a shelter for the night. Almost time to buy new hiking boots, since my treads are wearing pretty thin. Anyhoo, just thought I'd send you a Massachusetts postcard before I leave the state. Time to go to Vermont!

Love you,
Deb

This postcard reminds me how cold it was the morning I hiked up Mt. Greylock, when I climbed out of my tent at about 4:30. I'd started getting up really early and hitting the trail by about 5 or so. Split P had asked me to wake her when I got up, so she and Turbo Turtle could get off to an early start, too. I woke her up alright, but all she did was groan and go back to sleep.

Watching the clouds from the summit of Mt. Greylock

The postcard reads:

New Hampshire Scenics;

Mt. Lafayette--Franconia Notch, N.H.
Mt. Lafayette, the highest peak in the Franconia Range (5249 ft.) as seen from Cannon Mountain

Photo by Don Sieburg

I wrote:

Hey!

Taking a break today after the Presidentials (Mts. Jackson, Eisenhour, Monroe, Washington, Adams and Madison). Driving up Washington (after hiking over it in the fog the day before) was a GREAT adventure on a gorgeous day. We'll be in Maine on the 1st and looks like Katahdin by 9/27. Woo-hoo! Then it's back to makeup and deoderant and new Victoria's Secret undies. Lots of thru-hikers have bunched up now, so it looks like it will be a party on the Big K. We'll have to take turns getting our pictures taken at the top. Deb-the-Ramkitten photos for everyone. Hope your toofies are feeling better, Dad.

Love you,
Deb

This reminds me of taking a wrong turn in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where the A.T follows pre-existing trails that often are signed with other names, and hiking an extra 5 miles round trip. That was one long day but one of the few times I actually got "misplaced."

If you're going to get "misplaced," New Hampshire's White Mountains are a beautiful place to do it.

The postcard reads:

Bill Silliker Signature Series

This classic match between two battling bull moose offered a rare moment for the photographer. Bulls will fight for the affections of a cow moose in the fall mating season, or rut.

Photographer--Bill Silliker Jr.

I wrote:

Hi, Maw and Paw....

I saw me one of the critters pictured on the front but without the rack. Ms. Moose was feeding on stuff on the bottom of Swift River Pond. As I watched, she waded in a big circle around the pond and got within a couple feet of me. Maine is absolutely gorgeous, although the hiking is very strenuous. We've had great luck with the weather, however, so it's been completely enjoyable. Love these small towns too, and the northern hospitality. The south certainly doesn't have a monopoly on that. Taking a day off today in Stratton, ME. On to Monson in 5 or 6 days, then the 100-mile Wilderness. Looks like Katahdin on 9/25!

See you soon!

Love,
Deb

These Maine postcards bring back so many memories, like it was yesterday. I remember a particular wet root I slipped on. I remember washing my hair in Jo Mary Lake. I remember calling Split P "mud butt" when she went slip-and-splat. And I remember Gaited Mule climbing up to the bunk above mine at the Pie Lady's house, and it (and he) sagged to within inches of my face. I also remember pushing him up with my feet and uber-stong legs.

A milestone in Maine: the 2,000-mile mark in the middle of the road
(Logging trucks are a major hazard when taking advantage of this photo op.)

The postcard reads:

Maine Scenics

Baxter State Park
Katahdin Reflections

Photo ©Jean McLean

I wrote:

Hi, Ma! Hi, Dad!

Today, I hiked to the base of this majestic mountain. The feeling of reaching this point after almost 6 months and over 2,100 miles of hiking is almost impossible to put into words. We'll wait out the rain tomorrow and hope to climb the 5.3 miles and 4,000 feet to the summit on Monday, 9/25. It's the biggest climb of the whole trail and one I'll do surrounded by such special friends. Thank you for all of your wonderful support. Can't wait to see and spend time with you.

Lotsa love!
Deb

I'll never forget that last day on the trail, postcard or not. Every moment of that last climb is etched in my mind. No matter how many memories pile on top of it, the mental picture postcard I have of touching that final A.T. sign is burned into my memory forever.

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