A Day in the Woods

It's 3:30 in the morning. My eyes open but all I see is black. The blackness of night. Something is scurrying along the leaves on the ground to the left of my hammock tent. I pull my arm from the sleeping bag and look at the faint glow of my watch. Ungh... three more hours until daylight. I close my eyes, turn on to my side, and drift back in to sleep.


I wake again at 6:30. This time the sunlight streaming through the leaves in the trees and my hammock rainfly light up everything. My book and journal hanging from the centerline, the bear spray above my head in it's pouch, and my 'ditty bag' full of all my electronic goodness. It's cold outside the sleeping bad. My nose is chilly.

I doze in and out of sleep for another half an hour trying to will myself out of the bag. Finally, around 7am, I unzip and crawl out in to the morning air. Aaah. It's always better after the inital shock. Time to start packing up. The sleeping bag, long underwear (which is usually used as a pillow), and sleeping pad go in to the pack first. Then my books, ditty bag, and sandals. Finally the hammock is closed up and stuffed in. I give Crabapple's tent a shake.

"hey... Crabapple...."
"unnnnn......."
"morning!"
"uh... hunnnnn....."

The bear bag rope which we use to hang our food at night is brought down and I pull out breakfast. Half a bag of granola and powdered milk. Two Nature Valley bars are stuffed into my pocket for the day. Once Breakfast is done, all the food stuff go back in to the bear bag, and in to my pack. One final check around the campsite. Yup, got everything. Clank my poles, discuss where to meet up with Crabapple that evening, say goodbye to the others sharing the shelter, and I'm on my way.

The air is thick with moisture. It's almost 9am and there's a fog covering everything, making the narrow trail feel endless. A steep ascent up some mountain with the name of Laurel or Hump or Sassafras. No views on the top. And even if there were, It would probably be covered by the fog.



An hour after leaving camp, the fog has started to lift. Every five minutes my face runs in to a spider's line crossing the trail. I'm the first one out this morning.

Two more hours pass. I can see each upcoming turn of the trail clearly now. Another mountain. This time there's a clearing at the summit and I look back at the progress I've made so far. Six and a half miles. Rolling mountains as far as the eye can see. And the other direction, more rolling mountains. It's beautiful and daunting.

It's a good time to stop for lunch. There's a shelter not too far up the trail and I pull out my lunch ziploc there. PB&J, crackers, and some beef jerky. It's good for the first three weeks... then it starts to get a little repetitive.

Fifteen minutes later and I'm back on the trail. Every once in a while I'll pass a white blaze painted on a tree and I can rest assured that yes, I'm still going the right way. Yes, I'm still on the Appalachian Trail.

A deer bolts up a ridgeline to my right. I pass a stream, a road, another stream. I think a lot. I think about work, and family. About things that I don't take time to contemplate with all the distractions of home. There is a clarity that comes with being out here, walking the trail day in and day out. I realize what's really important to me. Family, M, friends, soap.

I arrive at the shelter where Crabapple and I planned to meet. It's four in the afternoon. My feet have taken me 15 miles today. Over three mountain tops, and along two ridgelines. I lean back on the picnic bench in front of the shelter and watch the trees rustling in the breeze. Crabapple shows up 30 minutes later.

The sun is breaking through a small opening in the trees. I take off my boots and set them in the sunlight to dry the sweat out. The solar charger and batteries go next to them. Time for evening chores. The hammock goes up, water bag is filtered and filled, books and bearbag rope hung. At half past six I heat up some water for dinner and pour it in to my single serving of Mountain House pasta primavera.

With stomach full, and feet relaxed I clean up the dishes, brush my teeth, hang the bear bag, and say goodnight to everyone around the shelter.

After crawling in to my sleeping bag, I check my phone for reception. Nothing. Do part of a copied down sudoku from my journal, write in my journal, and read a few chapters in my book.


At eleven the sun is down, and I hold my headlamp up to my watch to give it's glow-in-the-dark hands enough charge to last to the morning. Zip up my sleeping bag, and close my eyes.


The wind is rustling through the trees, I can hear an owl in the distance hooting out it's call. Sleep comes quickly.