Gone for a Walk: One Woman’S Revealing Discovery of Forgiveness, Healing, and Hope While Hiking the Appalachian Trail

By Terri Sanders

When author Terri Sanders hiked the Appalachian Trail, her biggest surprise was not that the trail was difficult or long; it was that the true test of endurance arose not from climbing over boulders or walking in torrential rain storms, but from being willing to look inward at her emotional baggage and choose to let it go.

A compilation of journal entries from the trail, Gone for a Walk presents a compelling look at her 2,100-mile odyssey hiking the Appalachian Trail. She shares not only the story of her journey, the people she met along the way, and the scenery she witnessed, but also a brutally honest glimpse of her life and the struggles she faced growing up and later in life. She shares valuable insights as the Lord speaks to her, convincing her of her self-worth and His great love and acceptance for her. Through these revelations, she was finally able to come home to herself with true acceptance.

A story of hiking, hope, and healing, Gone for a Walk offers a look at profound moments of the healing touch of God and demonstrates that His love for us is everlasting. It tells of an odyssey, grounded in perseverance and goal setting that changed Sanders life in unimaginable ways.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490895703

Terri Sanders

Terri “Bumpkin” Sanders has been self employed most of her life.She currently owns and operates Mt.Blanca Fudge Co.in Blanca, Colorado.The mother of four and grandmother of 14 She enjoys hiking sewing,reading and writing.Originally from Colorado,She moved back after spending 45 years in northwest Florida.She lives in a remote cabin in the Sangre De Cristo Mountains in south central Colorado.This is her debut book.

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Copyright © 2015 Terri Bumpkin Sanders.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover photo provided by courtesy of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-9569-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-9571-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-9570-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015917328

WestBow Press rev. date: 009/01/2015

Contents

Introduction

The Hike Begins

Author’s biography according to her grown children

Notes

Dedication and thanks

The sun went down quickly as I hiked along the trail. I still had a few miles to go and all of the other hikers were far ahead of me. I wasn’t very keen on the idea of hiking through the night in Maine. The trail is rough and rugged, covered with rocks, roots and stream crossings with no bridge. The animals, insects and birds that provide a lovely backdrop to an afternoons hike begin to wakeup and sounds that I can’t identify are starting to surround me. I kept my headlamp turned off, knowing that once I turned it on my night vision would disappear and all I would be left with was a warm circle of light and pitch black everywhere else.

It was for this reason that I was still hiking along in the growing darkness, and I was almost on top of her when I heard Bumpkin say, Mud Butt, is that you?. Bumpkin has always been a much faster hiker than I, and she should have been miles ahead of me, but there she was, sitting on a log, waiting for me. I just heard something huge walk by me in the forest!, she said, and we both agreed that it must have been a moose. I had heard something similar a few minutes before and we thought that moving away from the area was in our best interest. Moose in late September are the last thing a hiker wants to see up close.

Bumpkin took the lead as we strode off down the trail, talking softly as small moths played in the light of our lamps. Bumpkin would warn me of big steps or turns ahead and slowly but surely, the dark around us became friendly. After months in the woods, any fear that the night forest had to offer was completely offset by the friendship we had forged.

We giggled and chatted, circling often back to the food we would eat when we finally got back to the hostel, and slowly the miles swept by. Towards the end of the hike, we walked out onto a giant, flat rock atop a mountain. It was after 9:00 at night, but we truly had no schedule to follow, so we took off our packs and lay down on the rock face. It was cold and clear, and there were more stars than I had ever seen before. The smells of pine and earth were rich and clean and I felt completely at peace. Our conversation turned to the view of a plane whose lights were tracing across the sky. We asked, Do you think they are looking down and wondering if we need rescuing?. Before we knew it, we were laughing hysterically, tears rolling down our cheeks. I think that we laughed forever and when I look back on that time, it was the most special moment of my hike. Our friendship and partnership had come almost 700 miles and had left us both much, much richer for the journey. I knew that in the coming years, as Bumpkin completed the rest of the Appalachian Trail, she would have many more special moments and adventures. But I was proud to have been able to share this one with her

Mud Butt

Anna Huthmaker

A.T.—2003, 700 miles

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Mud Butt signifying how many times she fell that day

Introduction

I don’t remember when I first heard about the Appalachian Trail. I do remember the first time I set foot on it. My husband, Jerry and I were in the Georgia Mountains. I had just finished the holiday season in the craft shop that I owned in Northwest Florida and was exhausted. I remember how brown and dead the woods were, with leaves rustling underfoot. I remember listening to the cold winter wind as it blew through the trees with a hushed sound. The cabin where we stayed was just down from Neel’s Gap and the Walasi Yi Outfitters. This is the first sign of civilization to those hikers who set out on the A.T. from Amicalola Falls, some 30 miles away. There were not any hikers in the store that early in the season. The place was stuffed with backpacking equipment. Packs, boots, sleeping bags, camp food, tents, and maps, you name it and it was there. We used the fanny packs we were wearing and set off on a day hike. That was the beginning of my love affair with the A.T.I was green and sadly lacking in common sense. To think that one day I could hike the whole trail, all 2168 miles of it was almost unthinkable. An independent sort I was, capable of doing whatever needed to be done, not afraid to try just about anything.

We ventured north a few miles. The trail was empty of any other people. We stopped, ate our snack, and then headed back to the cabin.

The next day we did the same thing, only we headed south. I remember the brilliant blue sky, and the stark trees, naked of their canopy. I listened to the rustle of leaves under my feet as I walked. We were completely surrounded by nature. We were both captivated by this hiking outdoors just walking with the woods. No stress, no telephone, no deadlines. Just the quiet and solitude of the forest. At least I thought the forest quiet. I didn’t realize that from that day, the forest would call to me each spring. Its voice louder each time, beckoning me back to the trail.

We walked back into the outfitters, undereducated about hiking gear, but determined to spend more time hiking trails. It didn’t matter what trails or where, we just wanted to hike. Hours later we walked out, completely equipped with the latest and greatest hiking equipment! We were on our way!

Over the next few months we spent several weekends hiking with friends or just by ourselves. When it came time to go head for home, I was always reluctant to leave the woods. Looking back in my daily journals, my entries always readI believe that I could walk forever through the woods.

Thanksgiving evening, 1996 Jerry was watching TV when he received a call to go into work. He handed me the remote control as he walked out the door saying Find something good to watch on TV while I am gone.

Let me tell you how silly this statement was. When we got married, he owned 5 television sets. I owned zero. I hadn’t watched TV in years and was not remotely interested in watching anything that night .But hey, it is not very often that a man gives up his remote control, and there I was alone with a long evening before me. I started channel surfing and before long I found a special program about hiking the Appalachian Trail. I watched mesmerized as hiker after hiker faced the camera they were carrying and talked about their hike. These people were hiking from Georgia to Maine. In one season, over two thousand miles. It was incredible! I was hooked! By the time Jerry came home I was bouncing off the walls. We can do this I said, with an excited determination in my voice. He looked at me and said Yeah, sure.

The next few years found us continuing to go out on short hikes in different seasons and on different terrains. I never tired of hiking. Always in the back of my mind was the thought that people in their seventies have successfully hiked the AT. I can do this. I hesitantly made plans to hike in the summer of 2000.My youngest child would be graduating from high school and I knew he would just jump at the chance to spend the whole summer with his Mom in the woods. Boy was I wrong. He wanted to go to work; you know earn some money before starting college in the fall.

There was no way my husband would go with me. Number one, he still had a job and number two; he just could not envision himself spending day after day carrying a heavy pack over the mountains, in rain, sleet, snow and whatever else Mother Nature could throw at us. It did not excite him in the least. Oh, he loved being outside, even loved hiking, he just wasn’t obsessed with it as I was. It never occurred to me that I could go by myself. What about strangers? What about bad weather? What about getting lost or falling and getting hurt? Women don’t do things like this. Not without their husbands or at least another person. At least not any of the women I knew. I wrestled with these objectives as the dream to hike the trail burned inside me.

I don’t remember how I found out about Women Hikers Group on Yahoo, but the next thing I knew I was communicating with other women who love to hike, some of whom had hiked the A.T. Ever so slowly I started to believe that this was a dream I could fulfill. I didn’t need someone to hike with me; I knew I could take care of myself. Still, hike alone? There was no way my husband would buy that idea .I read everything I could get my hands on about hiking the A.T.I even found Bill Bryson’s book, A Walk in the Woods. I somehow forgot that he was an author and not a hiker, but I loved the book. If he could hike the trail, then I most certainly could. The fact that he only hiked a short section did not concern me.

I waited for the right moment to approach Jerry. The right moment came during the middle of one of his favorite shows. I casually admitted that I wanted to hike the trail in celebration of my fiftieth birthday .He said Sounds good to me. And so I was off. More reading, more researching, countless emails and suggestions from the women hikers group. At one point I remember Jerry saying you seem really serious about this hiking thing. I smiled and said I sure am serious. I don’t think he believed me at the time.

It became obvious that I needed a start date, something that would spur me on .Something that might also help me rethink this notion to hike the trail. Judging by the reaction of friends and family, I was nuts. I had lost it was the statement I heard time and time again. That and why? Again I waited for just the right time to announce my departure date. I didn’t want to catch Jerry by surprise. Again the perfect time came while we were camping in Tennessee along the John Muir Trail. We were sitting by the campfire, watching the flames flicker and talking about how great it was to be out in the woods .About how we would like to see how long we could stay out in the woods before we would be tired and ready to go home. It was May 21, 2002, our eighth wedding anniversary. Turning to my mate I said You know I have set a start date for my A.T. hike. I want to start April fool’s Day 2003. I was glad it was dark so I couldn’t see his face. You know there is no way I can take off and hike the trail with you, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. A week or two maybe, but not the whole summer. I am about ready to turn in for the night, aren’t you?

It took me the whole trip home the next day to convince him I was serious about hiking the trail without him. Maybe not alone, but not with him. The idea of me hiking with a bunch of strange men did not sit well with him. The idea of me hiking with another female did not sit too well either.

Over the next months, my life revolved around dehydrated meals, a vacuum sealer, and ever changing ideas about gear. I continued to break the news to friends. I continued to get the same concerned responses. Was I nuts? I asked myself that question repeatedly also. Well if I were crazy, I had heard it said that most crazy people don’t need help. They know they are crazy. It is those people who don’t know they are crazy you have to watch.

January 21, 2003

In hindsight, attending a hiking ruck (a get together of experienced hikers and wanna be hikers to talk gear, food, and anything else one might want to talk about) probably should have been my first step. Now, having attended my first ruck and as a victim of a tuckerising, I can say I have more information to help me reach Mt. Katahdin which is in central Maine and is the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Of course I may arrive severely depressed over the gear I left behind, but only time will tell!

My gear included (in no special order);pack towel 6 oz, water bladder 7 oz, cook stove and pan 14 oz, sleeping bag 3lbs 6 oz, headlamp 5 oz, journal 10 oz, data book 4 oz, hikers companion book 10 oz, fleece liner 28 oz, toiletries and first aid kit 14 oz, thermal underwear set 13 oz, camp pillow 6 oz, thermal cup 5 oz, camp shoes 9 oz, water filter 12 oz, tent and stakes 3lbs8oz,therna rest pad 15 oz, rain set 15 oz, denatured alcohol for stove12oz,rope 2 oz, visor 2 oz ,clothing included pants with zip off legs, long sleeve hiking shirt, sleep shirt, two pair of socks, sports bra, pair of underwear, sleeve top ,thermal jacket, gaiters, gloves, shorts, shoe liners and a balaclava. Clothing weight; just over 6 lbs.

The ruckers at the Georgia ruck showed little mercy to the ruckee. But I am several pounds lighter thanks to their input. I learned a lot of good ideas and some things I hadn’t thought of before. I really don’t need pepper, or salt for my meals. Nor do I need three rolls of toilet paper. I don’t need a fork and a spoon but can get by quite well with one or the other. My fleece blanket? out it goes. It is too bulky and too heavy. A large hairbrush? No, a small comb will suffice. A different soap for washing dishes, my hair and my clothes is unnecessary. One bottle of soap will do it all. Total pack weight with food for a week and water included; 35 lbs.

February 5, 2003

One of the first things I needed to do was to resign from my Rotary club as its secretary/treasurer. A lifetime office as the guys called it. The day that I broke the news to them, they panicked. I am not sure whether they panicked because they were losing their secretary, or because I was going to be out in the woods without a man to protect me. Since one requirement of Rotary is consistent attendance, they would have to figure a way for me to stay a Rotarian and still hike. Leave it to my husband to come up with a wonderful idea for this. Rotary International had a goal to eradicate polio worldwide. With enough funds collected it was a goal within reason. So Jerry said Why can’t you solicit pledges for so much money a mile on your hike? Say, a penny a mile?My fellow Rotarians quickly chimed in vowing to sponsor me a penny a mile for every mile I hiked. My dream was fast becoming a reality and along with that, the opportunity to raise money for a worthy cause, a chance to touch thousands of lives. All I had to do was hike. I could remain their secretary. By attending different Rotary clubs along the way, I could make up some of the meetings that I missed.

We quickly spread the word of my fund raiser. Not a hard task in a small town. I had dozens of pledges before I ever took that first step. My husband designed me a web page and our local paper did a nice write up about me. I was fast becoming a small town celebrity. Not very many people in our town had even heard of the Appalachian Trail, much less knew anyone who had ever hiked it. More pledges started coming in. I did several programs for civic groups in the surrounding area, as well as addressing an after school program at the YMCA.I don’t believe anyone had even a hint of what I had ahead of me. I barely did.

I also found out about something called The Gathering. It was an annual event focused on A.T. hikers with programs about gear, food, dangers and rewards .You name it and the Gathering had it. I dragged a reluctant husband along. We had planned to pitch a tent but a nasty cold that Jerry developed and the fact that it was going to rain all weekend sent us to a motel instead. I attended seminar after seminar, gathering more information than I would ever remember. About the time I was ready to collapse under the sheer weight of all I needed to know, along came Warren Doyle with his popular book; How to Hike the Appalachian Trail. It was one sheet of paper. I could handle this I thought to myself. Still I was skeptical. Surely a person needs much more information than this to have a successful hike. Still, I took the paper and filed it with all my other handouts. I had more information than I could digest in a year much less in five months. At the Gathering I met a girl who would become my hiking partner. I call everyone who is younger than me girls and boys, leftover habit from raising children I guess. Her name was Anna and her trail name was Mud Butt .So named because if there was a mud puddle anywhere on the trail she would find it and always in the sitting position. This was by her own admission. Of course I did not know at the time she would be my hiking partner. In retrospect I think I was keeping my eyes open for someone I would have a lot in common with, and then I was going to tell God" See? That one? That is who I am supposed to hike with. Isn’t it? It is the same thing many of us do when we pray. We are really just telling God what we are going to do then expect Him to buy the idea that it was His idea all along. Anna seemed super nice, but way too young and living in a completely different world. Two generations separated us. Two long generations. The only thing we seemed to have in common was a burning desire to hike the trail in 2003.

Back in September 2002 I put an ad in the Appalachian Trail News for a hiking partner. It read; Wanted; Christian hiker to hike the A.T.Trail with me beginning on April 1 2003.I prayed long and hard about whom God wanted me to hike with. I knew He had it all worked out. All I had to do was trust Him to match me up with the right person.

In November 2002 I had gone on a long weekend hike with some of the ladies from the Women Hikers Group. It was the most exhausting thing I have ever done. It was also the most exhilarating thing I have ever done. Well, short of raising children that is! I met several women who became almost instant friends. The ranges of ages and backgrounds of these women were almost as diverse as the trail. I also got reacquainted with several I had met at The Gathering. Mud Butt was among them. After hiking with some of the women slow enough for me to keep up with, I happened upon Mud Butt and asked if I could hike with her for awhile. The miles seemed less long as we hiked and chatted away. Still, I knew that God had just the right partner waiting for me and she wasn’t it. After all, I had placed my ad already describing what I wanted in a partner. But there didn’t seem to be anyone breaking down the door or flooding my in box with emails, accepting the challenge to hike with me. As usual I kept waiting faithfully for that divine revelation of my hiking partner. Whether I missed the revelation or just mistook it for something else, it became obvious that I was not going to have a hiking partner. I knew that to appease my family I would have to have a partner. Since Mud Butt was starting around the same time as I was, I emailed her and asked if I could tag along with her and her partner for awhile. My strategy was to start hiking with them long enough to get out of my husband’s sight and then strike out on my own. I would keep my eyes open for my perfect partner as I went.

It was settled then, and I moved my start date up a few days. Mud Butt’s partner, Snow Bear worked up a very detailed itinerary and sent it to us. I arranged my mail drops accordingly and counted down the days. My son relented somewhat about hiking with me, so we made plans for him to come up and join me in the White Mountains. The Whites were reportedly one of the tougher sections of the trail. I decided to do a small hike with some of my new found friends who were leaving on their thru hike March 1.2003.This would give us a chance to test mine and my son’s gear ahead of time. Preparations were taking shape as my excitement coupled with a healthy dose of fear mounted.

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Appalachian Trail logo in downed tree

February 28, 2003

Start: McDavid, Florida

Destination: Springer Mountain, Georgia

I left early this morning for the drive to Springer Mountain to start the Appalachian Trail with Pack #31 as Subman has dubbed us. This will be a shakedown hike for me to test my new equipment, and see if any adjustments need to be made before starting my thru hike later this month. My youngest son, Kevin is hiking with me for the next few days. It will be good to spend some time together. He grew up so fast and is now in college. Not too many years from now he will be out on his own.

My hiking partner Mud Butt who I had hiked with a few years ago on a weekend hike in Tennessee had to work this week so she and I will start our hike together later this month. For the last few months I have been in an online hikers group called Hikersrus and those of us who are starting out on March 1, 2003 have become an online family. I feel I know these people so well, yet have only met one of them in person, Liteshoe; who led a group of women hikers on a four day hike last November in Erwin, Tenn.

As the days grew closer to our starting date, more and more posts on line brought us closer together. We were all wound tight with anticipation of not only meeting in person, but starting our journey along the trail. No one knows if we all will make it or not, or if some of us will suffer injuries that take us off the trail, but we do know that we are a family and will support each other as we can.

The saddest thing any of us could imagine happening in our group has already happened. Four days before starting this hike with us, Ted collapsed from a massive heart attack. When I first read the e-mail, I was stunned and heartbroken. Though we had never met, he was always good at answering questions and joking with us. I told him in an e-mail early on that if he was planning on hiking to Katahdin the least he could do was learn to spell it. Now he is gone and to say we are all devastated would be an understatement. There is a void in our group; we have lost a beloved family member.

We met Coosa, (a hiker who had agreed to shuttle us to the trailhead) at her house, and she shuttled us up to Springer Mountain. It was cold and rainy, not an ideal day to start a thru hike, but I am sure we will have plenty of sunny days to counteract the rainy ones. At least I hope so! There were so many names to finally get to put faces on. Wench had made up some small towels with Ted’s name on them and handed them out to us. His death will be fresh on everyone’s mind and Speck, Subman and I will have an awesome opportunity to minister to others who are dealing with pain and suffering without the hope that knowing Jesus can bring. It feels so great to be here, where I really feel I matter and belong.

We met Liteshoe at the parking lot and took a round of pictures, and then headed up the trail. As soon as I started I got goose bumps all over

It was getting dark so I pulled my headlamp out and put it on my head. Its bright beam showered all around the darkness of the forest. If you looked at someone the light would be blinding. Ahead the glow from a campfire welcomed us into the shelter and the rest of Pack 31. A hiker strolled toward us wearing dark sunglasses .I had been told that people on crack wore sunglasses constantly to hide their eyes. It seemed ridiculous to me to see a guy out here in the dark with shades on, but since I didn’t know who he was, I said nothing. Later I learned it was Hotdog and he was griping about his headlight not being very bright. Apparently the headlamp wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t very bright! Duh!

It was good to finally be there in person with some of the members of Pack #31, Liteshoe, Subman, Pringles, Hotdog and, Speck. Others of Pack 31 will join us tomorrow as we begin our journey, one step at a time.

I put up my tent a little ways from the shelter while Kevin set up his tarp—no tent for the brave at heart . I like to be closed in away from the threat of bugs and varmints. I have a terrible case of arachnophobia. Hopefully I can overcome that fear during this hike!

The rainy mist finally lifted and we were rewarded by a sky filled with a million twinkling stars. The smells of the hardwood forest is all around us.

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Bumpkin and her backpack

March 1, 2003

Start: Springer Mountain

Destination: Hawk Mountain Shelter

We are off!! Pack 31 is on the prowl. Hikers beware! A slow misty rain was falling when I woke up this morning. Another rainy day in the woods, but this is still too new for me to be aggravated about the rain. Kevin has earned his trail : Sniper since he is dressed all in black. That is so funny because he never wears black at home. Out here though, you can be whoever you want to be and no one questions you. After breakfast, Liteshoe, Sniper, Wench, Hotdog and I went up to the summit and Sniper took the group pictures for us before we started hiking for the day.

Today I will carry Ted’s American Flag that had flown in combat. He had wanted to carry it to Katahdin as an act of peace since our country will most likely go to war this year. It will be my only chance to carry it since I will be getting off the trail on Sunday to head home and wait for Mud Butt to join me. The sun finally broke through but only for a few minutes. It was as though God were smiling down on us as I transferred the flag to my pack. Ted’s friends will carry his flag all the way to Katahdin.

In the Springer Parking lot, more of Pack 31 showed up, A-Train and his friend Red. I noticed a bright red van parked in the lot and quickly recognized Swallowtail, a fellow woman hiker who was passing out trail magic like crazy ; apples, oranges, bananas and candy. Trail magic before we even get started!

We hiked along taking numerous breaks, trying to accustom our bodies to the rigors of the trail. Long Creek Falls were beautiful and I could feel the ozone. It was invigorating.

I finally reached Gooch Gap just behind the rest of the pack. The forecast calls for more rain so I am sleeping in the shelter tonight with Liteshoe, Wench and Hotdog. A hiker named Bonedancer hiked in carrying his seven pound banjo, and entertained us with music and rhyme. The music reverberated off the walls of the shelter and out into the dark of the mountains. It was really quite a treat! The temperature drops as the sun goes down and just before I finally fell asleep I could see my breath.

Miles 7.6

March 2, 2003

Start: Hawk Mountain Shelter

Destination: Gooch Gap

It was once again overcast when I got up this morning but the rain held off. I am sore all over and feel like a truck hit me. It is a good thing the excitement overshadows the pain. The hike today was great even without the sun. I stopped at lunch and fixed a bagel and peanut butter. I love peanut butter and since I will be burning more calories than I eat I will eat all the peanut butter I can.

The climb to Sassafras Gap was long and grueling, but I took it slow and easy and finally made it to the top. Sniper and I decided to stay at the old Gooch Gap shelter that the guide book says has been torn down. The wind had picked up and it looked like it would be a night of howling wind and rain. The rest of the pack continued down to the gap to pitch tents. Later I found out that Swallowtail was down there with more trail magic.

We tried to get a fire going but could not find any dry wood. As the wind picked up, the temperatures dropped. I was glad to be out of the wind and cold. Finally the sky cleared and once again we were rewarded with a sky filled with bright shining stars.

Miles 8.8

March 3, 2003

Start: Gooch Gap Shelter

Destination: Woods Hole Shelter

It was cold this morning. I mean bone shaking, teeth rattling cold. My hydration hose was frozen solid as was Sniper’s. I found out later it was 19 degrees! I packed up and we made a hasty exit in an effort to keep from freezing. I finally came to a sunny outcrop, stopped and fixed breakfast. Instant oatmeal never tasted so good. The sun had come out and it was a beautiful day for hiking. Just after lunch I came to the road crossing of Woody Gap. From my view across the highway I could see Mud Butt and some of her friends set up to give away some trail magic. In my haste to get to her and grab her and hug her, I never bothered to look as I crossed the street and was nearly mowed down by a passing car. Already I have been too long in the woods. Oreos, Moon Pies, Snickers, other cookies .Bless her heart, she even managed to save me one hot biscuit! Wow!!!!! Swallowtail was there also, handing out cups of hot chocolate. She even gave Sniper a spoon to replace the one he lost. For him that was the best trail magic! It was tough to leave Mud Butt, but I reminded myself that in a few short days we will start hiking together, headed for Maine. After more pictures and hugs I started up the trail.

We leapfrogged all day with Pack 31. By late afternoon we decided we had missed our shelter. I ran into a ridge runner who told us the shelter was another mile and a half up the trail. I plodded along and tried to figure how I could zone out. I ran into my first grumpy person out here today, thankfully he kept hiking. I dragged into Woods Hole Shelter and set up my tent and fixed supper. I mixed some powdered milk and dunked the Oreos I had gotten from Mud Butt. Marvelous, simply marvelous. The privy here is a sight to behold. It is actually leaning at a sharp degree backwards, but it makes for a beautiful view while sitting. Tonight there was a glorious sunset; with the mountains as a backdrop. It was great, although a bit distracting as hikers rushed down to the privy to snap pictures of the sunset from that vantage point.

Miles 10.2

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Bumpkin & Sniper

March 4, 2003

Start: Woods Hole Shelter

Destination: Neel’s Gap

I am up at the crack of dawn. Going to bed at dusk makes for a long night. Today should be an easy day hike into Neel’s Gap. Subman prays for all of us before we leave and separate. The profile map shows a series of big up and down climbs. We all stop at Blood Mountain for a final round of pictures before we scatter. We took more pictures of us with Ted’s Flag on top of the mountain. Blood Mountain is the tallest point on the trail in Georgia. After an hour of climbing over huge boulders we hoist our packs and head for Neel’s Gap. As we descend the cliff we were playing on, Hotdog miss stepped and tumbled onto the trail. Thankfully he is OK, just a wee bit embarrassed by his fall.

I surprised myself by beating everyone into Neel’s Gap! I met Bear Kat for the first time and got one of his famous bear hugs. He wanted to know why after days of hiking I did not smell bad. I was speechless for a minute. No one had ever asked me a question like that before. I just shrugged. Then it was sad goodbyes to everyone, with promises of staying in touch. Sniper and I talked the whole way home about our practice hike. It was just enough to give me a desire to do more hiking.

Much more hiking. The A.T.—end to end—beckons.

Miles; 10.6

March 15, 2003

OK, I have neglected this journal way too long. There were so many things that could have prevented me from hiking this year, but here we are down to the wire, and everything seems to be a GO! There are times I find myself stopping in mid air and asking Am I really going to do this? This is by far the most selfish thing I have ever done in my life! Well, hiding the Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies from my kids doesn’t count, does it? So here I am preparing to leave behind three children who are grown and out on their own and my husband who is grown but not sure he can manage on his own and my youngest son who still lives at home. He is in college, works and has a life, so he is only here to sleep, do laundry and eat! I am leaving precious grandchildren behind also. What am I thinking? For the first time in my whole life (that includes my short childhood, which is a long story in itself) I am not responsible for anyone. I have responsibilities, but I am not responsible for anyone. I am not sure I like that feeling. Having been a very young teenage mother, all I have ever really known was parenthood. I was always somebody’s mom. But now who am I? And what is my life supposed to be about now? In some ways, I am totally clueless! Do I know who I am? Yes, I think so but I do not know what I am to do now. I am starting a new passage in my life, and have no clear sense of direction. I hope the next six months will help me define the next phase of my life! Had I known I was going to live this long, I would have made better plans. Think about what you would do, if you could do anything in the world you wanted. Then ask yourself Why Not?

March 23, 2003

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Blood Mountain Note

Last Live Journal Entry

Well, here I am, my last day at home. I have most of my things done that need to be done. I didn’t want to run around like crazy today. So I will probably run around like crazy tomorrow. I have a two hour session with my massage specialist, a facial and manicure in the morning. Nothing like going all out to go into the woods! Then at noon my Rotary Club is having a sendoff meeting for me. After that I am on my way to Atlanta. Yesterday, my four children threw a belated 50th birthday party for me, along with the youngest grandchild’s first birthday and any other birthdays that I will miss while out on the trail. It was surprisingly hard for me to tell them all goodbye. They are thinking that Mom has lost her mind. I am going off to find myself, they say. Well in some respects that might be true. But I would rather think that I am going off to let go of who I am not. I really do need a clear picture of what my life needs to be for the Lord now. I am sure He has a plan for me; I just want to seek His will. I never did have a mid life crisis, maybe this is one, just later than most. I have so many mixed feelings about leaving home for so long. I have always just wanted to be a wife and mother. No grand career plans, and now as I face the empty nest, I find myself wandering in a daze. Seeking some sort of fulfillment. It really surprises me; the people whom I thought would be the most critical of this adventure have been supportive. The ones I looked to for support, well, they have let me down .You just can’t figure people out. The next entry here will be from the trail. My dear husband, who by the way is my biggest supporter, will be transcribing my journal entries. That will be a hard task for him, because he will want to rewrite and correct all my run on sentences. But, I threatened him, so hopefully he will just transcribe for me. I cannot wait to get on the trail. Years of dreaming, months of preparation, weeks of conditioning, days of training, and minutes of worrying—now the time to leave is upon me. With mixed emotions, from sadness to joy, I take the first step and then another!

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Mud Butt & Bumpkin

THE HIKE BEGINS

March 26, 2003

She’s off! This entry is by Jerry (Bumpkin’s husband/support/transcriber).

I thought I’d let everyone know she is on her way. I surprised them near Neel’s Gap with a cabin and one last goodbye. They, Bumpkin and Mud Butt, were in good spirits and ready to continue when I dropped them (shoved them off) at Neel’s Gap this morning. Mud Butt & BumpkinHelen, Ga. is their next rest (o miles day) this Sunday. Thirty miles behind them 2,138 to go! I’ll transcribe her journal as soon as it shows.

March 26, 2003

Start: Woody Gap

Destination: Wood’s Hole Shelter

The day started with blue skies. Several former thru hikers had come to shove us off. I managed to say goodbye to Jerry without getting emotional. Then just a few minutes later, up the trail he came carrying my fanny pack, which I had left in the truck. My identification, money, medicine and toilet paper were all in that bag. I had repacked my pack last night and could not find my spoon, head lamp and knife. So I had to buy replacements before I left this morning.

The up hills were not too bad. I think I am in much better shape than I thought. I took a hard tumble when I tripped on a root in the trail. I must have looked like a turtle upside down, sprawled on my back. Getting upright was no easy task with my backpack on. I ended up unsnapping it and leaving it on the ground in order to get back up.

Just before the shelter, we got to the water source, which was almost dry. Good thing we still had water left from the last stream. The shelter was already full by the time we got there, so we pitched our tents. Supper was a bowl of hot spinach soup, crackers and some really great Girl Scout cookies. It was 6.47 p.m. and the wind picked up as soon as the sun went down. It took us five hours to hike 6.6 miles. The temperature started dropping so we headed to our warm sleeping bags. Later, someone managed to get a fire started and some of us crawled back out and sat around the campfire until the wee hours—8:30 p.m. I am using a Pocketmail to write my journal; when I get to a phone I can send and receive e-mails. The whole thing weighs about 8 ounces. Tomorrow will be a short four mile day, but it will take us over Blood Mountain.

Miles 6.6

March 27, 2003

Start: Woods Hole Shelter

Destination: Neel’s Gap

I woke up to the sounds of laughter and backpacking stoves being lit. It seemed way too early for me to even think about being awake. I am not a morning person and I don’t think hiking is going to change that, but I will probably have to wear ear plugs from now on. The weather was absolutely beautiful. The joke the last two days of hiking has been that I have a direct line to God because we were supposed to have thundershowers every day but so far haven’t. While I do have a direct link to God and give Him thanks that the storms missed us, my prayers weren’t about the weather and I had nothing to do with it.

Today we climbed Blood Mountain. It is the highest point on the