Guru Hikes

Intro

I grew up deep in the backwoods of eastern Tennessee and Georgia. I am so thankful for the years of playing and finding sanctuary in the Appalachian Mountains.  In 2017, after a year spent conducting biological field research in the very flat state of Kansas, I figured the best way to spend my time after finishing my contract would be to walk home through the Appalachian Mountains that were so dear to me.

Getting to the Trail

Starting the Appalachian Trail (AT) Southbound (SOBO) required a full day of northbound travel. Oddly enough, the single day of travel north followed a very close path to the trail that I would be walking southbound on for the next four months. A flight from Chattanooga to Newark, then another flight to Bangor, ME, a bus ride to Medway, and a van to Millinocket, and I finally arrived at the Appalachian Trail Lodge (now the Appalachian Trail Hostel & Outfitters). After one day of recovery and on a perfect mid-July day, I piled into the van with eight other would-be thru-hikers. I was on my way to Baxter State Park.

There were two oddities in the van worth mentioning. The first was the largest backpack I ever saw loaded in the back, and the second was a full-sized pillow that the young man in the front of the bus was holding. More on those soon.

I stepped out of the van at the Katahdin Stream Ranger Station. Eager to be on my way, I signed my name in the log book and was the first person in the group to start up the mountain.

My First Steps

Getting to Katahdin’s peak required five miles of hiking northbound on the AT. The first few miles were beautifully forested, but when I hit the tree line, the sight lines opened up and the views were magnificent. There were a few fun rock scrambles on the way up, and I reached the summit in less than two hours. There were a few day hikers already at the top who were nice enough to take my picture atop the iconic sign. I didn’t stay long, as it was pretty windy, and I was ready to take my first steps on the Trail as a Southbound hiker.

I lined my feet up with the sign to make certain I took the perfect first step on the trail. Following the AT back down the mountain, I passed some of the people from the van. Right before I hit the tree line I watched a Black Hawk helicopter conduct a rescue right around where I assumed the rock scramble was. I later learned that it was the kid with the pillow, who experienced a panic attack and told other passing hikers he couldn’t move his legs. I heard second-hand that his dad made him come out to the trail after graduating high school in Texas, and he was not a fan of the outdoors. Poor kid.

That night, I shared the shelter I reserved with three other hikers. One of the men I shared the shelter with was the proud owner of the massive backpack from the van. He was a stout young fellow and delightedly told us that his pack weighed seventy-nine pounds. He showed us a few of his very weighty gear choices, including a full metal cook set — including dinnerware enough to serve four people — and a five-pound tactical metal shovel. He got his trail name on his first day of hiking. Heavy.

Into the Hundred Mile

Monson is the first Trail town heading Southbound and is 115 miles from the terminus of the trail. The Hundred-Mile wilderness starts about fifteen miles south of Mt. Katahdin, as there is a small restaurant and store at Abol Bridge right before the 100 miles of forest. I did not want stop until I got to Monson, so I packed food for eight days.

My pack was heavy on my second day as I departed Katahdin Stream Campground. The heaviest it would be the entire Trail. Thirty-three pounds. With my slight build and the amount of miles I was planning on hiking each day, it felt quite heavy. I got up early, packed my gear, threw on the pack, and was on my way. The ten miles getting out of Baxter State Park was uneventful other than a few deep water crossings. I passed up on the restaurant and entered the Hundred Mile Wilderness. 

I planned to stay in the shelter three miles into the Wilderness, but when I arrived at five o’clock, it was already full. So on my first day of hiking, my fifteen-mile day turned into an eighteen-mile day, but I ended up at one of my favorite campsites on the entire AT on Rainbow Lake. I set up my tent and basked in the beauty of the lake. Then I went skinny dipping, made dinner, and went to bed with a magnificent view.

The Hundred Mile and a Trail Name

Much of the Hundred Mile Wilderness was just being in awe of the beauty and solitude of the forest. I don’t have the words to describe the magnitude of the feeling of wholeness I found in those woods, but there are a few stories that happened there.

I met a guy who started his SOBO hike in waterproof boots and got them soaked on day one. When waterproof boots get wet, they take forever to dry, especially when it is humid. He came into camp, took off his shoes, and just curled up in the fetal position for thirty minutes. His feet, from the ankle down, turned ghostly white after three days of hiking in wet shoes. 

I saw a bull moose for the first time. We met face to face as we both came around a bend in opposite directions on the Trail. He turned tail and ran, and I was happy not to be an new moose trampling statistic.

I ran away from mosquitos, arms waving cartoonishly, whilst coating myself with Picaridin. Once while doing so, as this was almost a daily occurrence, I stepped in mud that went up to mid-thigh. It took over two minutes of battling mosquitoes and almost losing a shoe to get out.

I met a woman who was LASHing (long a** section hiking) northbound, whom I shared a great connection with as we chatted over lunch in a shelter. We met so briefly, she going north and I going south, yet it was such a stark reminder that sometimes you just know who your people are. 

On the fourth day, I helped two women who were on their seventh day on trail. They were having a rough time with their backpacks and said that the packs did not fit them. The packs were just not aligned correctly, so I helped them adjust the various straps to get the right fit. I helped them with a few other things, and they were very thankful. They told me it was like having their own personal guru, and that was how I got the trail name Guru.

I also learned the important link between mood and food on trail–as well as in life in general. On my second to last day in the hundred mile, I was grumpy most of the day and could not figure out why until I got into camp and immediately after eating, I felt better. I ate a second dinner for good measure.

Monson and on Down the Trail

Arriving in Monson after eight solo days on the trail was otherworldly. It was such a small town, but it seemed so full after being in the woods for so long. I stayed at the legendary Shaw’s hostel, drank the complimentary cold PBR upon arrival, and chatted with other hikers. 

That night, a northbound thru-hiker named Caveman walked in with a rock duck-taped to where his foot should be. His prosthetic ankle broke a day before, and he did what all thru-hikers do on a pretty regular basis. He made do with what he had. Amazingly he was able to contact his prostheses guy (footman?) and got a new foot overnighted to the hostel, and was off to the Hundred Mile the next day. He planned to be at Katahdin and finish his thru-hike within five days.

I resupplied my food bag at Shaw’s and did a shakedown of my pack, sending home a few things I thought I would use but ended up not needing. My full pack for the next section would only weigh just twenty-four pounds, and I was much happier for it.

My next trail town was in Caratunk. I planned to spend a night at the Sterling Inn, but it was fully booked. While resupplying, I met a small tramily (trail family). They planned on splitting a canvas tent at the Three Rivers Lodge down the road and asked if I wanted to join. I happily agreed, and we hitched a ride to the lodge. 

It just so happened that night, the Lodge was hosting a cornhole tournament. Myself and a so-far-not-trail-named guy in the tramily signed up, and we ended up winning second place! A very scandalous second place in fact, after the opposing team moved the boards while we were winning. C’est la vie, but the second prize ended up paying for our stay that night as well as for our breakfast in the morning.

The next day we crossed the Kennebec River. Famous for being the only part of the Appalachian Trail that is not hiked, the canoe for the crossing has a white blaze on the bottom to remind you that you are still on the AT. The crossing was relatively easy but quite a unique experience for the Trail. 

That night was the first night I found trail magic in a shelter in the form of a large tupperware full of cupcakes. We ate a cupcake a piece in the shelter with a view of a lake and were quite thankful for the treat.

The following day, I went back to hiking solo as my pace was a bit faster than theirs, and I spent another lovely day passing lakes and listening to the birds sing through the forest. That day I reached the 200 mile mark, meaning I finished roughly ten percent of the Appalachian Trail! 

What’s Next

Up next, I’ll tell of Mahoosuc Notch and the “hardest mile of the Trail,” crossing the border into New Hampshire, scooping up a grouse, meeting Scuba, and almost dying in the Whites! Stay tuned, as the next segment will be released on Friday! Thanks for reading!

-guru