Read the full account as I reflect - one year on day by day

Visit my blog written one year later - AT in Retro -

Images and videos of the trail

Nearly a month after we completed the trail, I have finally found some time to sit down and organise my photographs and videos. This will take some time time but here are is a link to the first album on 'Hikers' which shows hikers we met and the wonderful trail angels who supported us on the way.

Web Album - Hikers and Trail Angels

And if you want a laugh here is the first video

Appalachian Trail - River Crossing

The killer shot on the summit

Tripper and Wizard . The journey is finally over. We actually did it!

Aftermath - 2 weeks after the summit

We have been home on the farm for a week, and memories from the trail bombard me continually as I re-adjust to my life at Cape Trib.

As I wake up at 3.00am to visit the toilet, I revel in the fact that I am walking from the bedroom to the bathroom, and not crawling out of a sleeping bag, into the freezing cold and pissing behind a bush. Each night at around 3.00 am for the last 2 weeks I have given thanks for my new circumstances. Comfort is something that many people take for granted. I probably will in time too, but at the moment, I appreciate each night as it comes.

I am still wearing my trail clothes as nothing else fits me, apart from the new pair of jeans I bought in Boston - extra small size. Everything else falls off me. I no longer have a bum (or butt, as the americans would say) to hold them up and I still haven't had a chance to get to town to go shopping.

Friends in our community are asking me ' did you enjoy your time in the US?'. I still don't know how to answer this question. There was so much deprivation during our 6 month hike that 'enjoy' is not the right word. Not yet anyway. Maybe in 6 months time I will be able to say that I 'enjoyed' our time hiking for 177 days. What I answer is to describe a specific situation on the trail to them so that they can get a glimmer of understanding of what life was really like. Each time I am asked, I provide a different example of deprivation. I don't have to search for examples - they pop into my mind. Everywhere I look a stimulus provides another memory or story of our adventure where we have been pushed to the limit.

It is great to catch up with friends in the community after 6  months, and to find out the latest news. I have some idea of what I have missed through following my Facebook page on my mobile phone, with postings about the Cape Trib news. I am really enjoying linking up with the young women in the community again. Digby says it is a 'mother/daughter' relationship. They are great company and it makes me think about the young women I met on the trail, especially my 'warrior princesses', Scatters and Stucco, who by now are back in normal life too, and going by names of Kate and Carrie. They are both powerful role models and how I envy them and wish I was as confident and strong and fit when I was thirty. I laugh when Carrie tells me that they think of Digby and I as their heroes.

Walking the trail gave us time to re-examine our lifestyle to see what we wanted to keep and what to change. We decided that we did still want to live at Cape Tribulation, and to continue running our farm business, but we realised that we were not taking time to smell the roses. One resolution we made was that we would not only work, but also play  and enjoy life. So we are going to be taking more time off away from the farm.

As we sort through our photos, I find myself wanting to share my experience - to stand up in front of people and speak about our experiences. Maybe I have a new career waiting to unfold as an after dinner motivational speaker!!

I promised myself that I would cook nutritious meals when I got home, after eating all that rubbish and preservatives. Looking through the recipe book tonight for a chicken recipe to make from scratch, I found Chicken Pot Pie. This was the trail name for a group of young people hiking the trail, who we met many times over the 6 months. I stopped cooking the recipe and started wondering - where are they now? What has happened to Tiny Dancer and Salty, two members Chicken Pot Pie. They were 'yellow blazers', and would walk a bit of the trail, then get a car ride to cover some of the distance and then hike a bit more. All the time Digby and I would be steadily walking, every step of the way. They would appear, disappear, then reappear. A completely different approach to the trail and to life. Just do the good bits, and skip the bits you don't want to do. And yet they were so fit, so keen, so young and good fun. What a pity that they would not be able to call themselves '2000 milers', the group that walks the 'whole trail'.

At last - we have completed the journey!

Yesterday we climbed Katahdin, the climax of the whole AT experience. A towering mountain with huge plateaus above the treeline and a rock boulder climbing approach which is daunting. It was a fitting end - day 176 on the trail.

It took us 3 and 3/4 hours to get to the top at 5268 ft, and 3 and a 1/4 hours to get down. The day was sunny with wind speeds 5-10 mph. It was glorious to be up on the summit, with 15 other thru-hikers who were also completing their hike, with a view stretching for miles over the 100 miles wilderness that we had walked through the last 7 days.

How do I feel? Initially it was relief that I had made it, and that it was over. Now 24 hours later, it is disbelief that we actually achieved it, that we actually did walk the whole way - 2179 miles. This is a major achievement - and by tomorrow it may be exhilaration and pride. But at the moment I still can't believe that we have actually done it.

We have 4 days booked in Boston in a small apartment in Beacon Hill, the historical downtown area, until we fly home on the 29th - Boston - Los Angeles - Melbourne - Cairns, arriving on the 1st October.

Southern Maine is hard work!

We breathed a sigh of relief to leave New Hampshire. At last we are in Maine, and hopefully on the home straight. Then we discover that the mountains in Maine are even worse than the Whites in NH. Over the last 4 days we have only been able to manage 10 miles a day.

Yesterday we did the Mahoosic Notch - a very deep valley which is filled with huge boulders - I mean really huge - and we have to wend our way through them, sometimes crawling through small crevasses, and having to take our backpacks off and push them through ahead of us. It took an hour and a half to travel the one mile through the notch. I emerged covered in scratches on my knees and elbows from the granite.

We survived the Whites

Ten days later we emerge from the White Mountains, the toughest part of the Appalachian Trail, with very difficult terrain and weather. We have covered just over 100 miles, much of it above the treeline, in hypothermic conditions. We have learned what 'wind chill' means. And with winds over 50 miles per hour, the temperature with wind chill taken into account drops below freezing. One day was so bad that we stayed at the hut for a rest day hoping that the cold front would pass. It sure took its time!

The hut system in the mountains provides huts every 4-5 hours walk, with dinner and breakfast. These bunks are booked out months in advance. We took our chance. They offer thru-hikers 'work for stay' which means you get to sleep on the floor of the dining room after everyone has gone to bed, and eat cold leftovers, and do some chores - but it costs nothing. The paying guests pay $100 a person per night. We did work for stay in 2 huts and were paying guests in 2 huts. Conditions were so bad, that Digby had to 'rescue' a woman wearing light cotton trousers and a plastic poncho which had been shredded in the wind. She couldnt standn up when the gusts came through.

Reminded me of Tasmania and the south west wilderness a lot.

Starting into New Hampshire

Just as we left to cross the Vermont border into New Hampshire, a lady in a car drove up and thrust a bag of freshly picked blueberries into our hands and asked if we would like them. Of course we said yes. Headed into the town of Dartmouth, and found ourselves a pizza restaurant. At 6pm we were picked up by Ralph and taken to Tigger's Treehouse, a homestay 6 miles out of town which hosts hikers.

The next day I bought a new pair of boots - the tread on the pair I had bought in week 4 had completely worn out, and I was nervous about taking them into the White Mountains. I bought the exact same pair of boots so that hopefully I won't have an issue with blisters. Three days of hiking and they have softened into being great boots.

We are now at the Hikers Welcome Hostel in Glencliff - having an afternoon off from the trail. Getting ready for the hardstuff which starts tomorrow climbing Mt Mouselauke with a 4500' climb. We are now through the 400 mile countdown - sitting on 398 miles to go. The next hundred miles sound very exciting.

Reflections on Vermont

Today - 15th August - we crossed the bridge over the Connecticut River and entered New Hampshire. With some excitement I might add, as this is the last leg of our journey with less than 450 miles to walk.

So it is time to take stock - first - how are we coping? Digby's knee is a perennial problem and he has been taking 'Ibubrophen' on a daily basis which reduces the swelling and acts as a painkiller. Despite the knee issue, we have been making good time, averaging over 100 miles a week and keeping to our schedule.

What about Vermont?
It is meant to be the muddy state, but we have had virtually no rain for the nine days that we hiked thru it. It is not as 'misty' or 'looming' as Massachussetts with its huge granite gorges and moss covered ravines. But it has a lot to offer and we enjoyed our time here. It made us think of Victoria with the climate that we had - crisp temperatures for walking of about 25C - just perfect.

The highlights

• Discovering 'moose poo' on the trail - we have yet to see a moose.
• Staying at the Bromley Sun Lodge in the Bromley Ski Resort, and watching Americans at play.
• Meeting four different work crews on the trail - one an all women team - improving the conditions of the trail.
• Walking with a 'group' - Scatters and Stucco, our warrior princesses, as well as Deetz, Powerpak, Ugly Tuna, Boss, and Miles - and enjoying the interactions over a 5 day period as we got to know them.
• My first swim in a wild river - and camping right next to the river.
• Climbing Mt Killington, at just over 4,000' the second highest peak in Vermont. A beautiful day and great views to be had.
• Staying at the Inn on the Long Trail - a hiker inn with an Irish pub attached. Guinness on tap so Digby was in seventh heaven.
• Meeting the pet pig at Mountain Meadows Lodge and giving it a good scratch behind the ears.
• Finding our first Vermont trail magic - two cold cokes left in the river for us.

Impressions from Pennsylvania

Everyone had warned us about the rocks - so we thought we were prepared. But we weren't. Finding your way through boulder fields hour after hour in temperatures above 100 degrees F gives a new dimension to hiking. I get addicted to Gatorade, as we try and keep the electrolytes up. Many of the springs listed have dried up. Some trail angels leave gallon containers by the road crossings, but these are often empty when we pass through.

I decided that nobody would actually hike through Pennsylvania for the fun of it. Then we arrive at Lehigh Gap......The climb out of Lehigh Gap - what a trail gem this is. This is a rockclimb, an exhilarating, amazing, absolutely fantastic rockclimb. Walking Sticks go into the pack. I use my hands to get up over the cliffs. On the way up we are caught by Stucco and Scatters and One Life who we follow for the rest of the day. Sourdough also walks in this group. We take an hour to complete the climb to the ridge. Then we enter a 'superfund' site - a restoration of the mountain denuded by zinc smelter air pollution, caused by corporate irresponsibility, and now being fixed with taxpayers funds. The tree growth is amazing.

The B&B from Hell

We stayed one night in a small B&B, which will be forever remembered as our US Fawlty Towers experience.

I won't go on about it but I do have to record that the owner kept us waiting one hour and 15 minutes before we could access our room, because she was too busy doing other things. We were not allowed to take our packs into our room as there were too many 'valuable antiques' that we might damage, so they had to be left on the ground floor by the back door. The antique junk in the rooms - lanterns, and jug s- covered every available surface - there was even a chamber pot on the floor.  The shared bathroom down the hall from our room did not have a shower - if we wanted a shower we had to descend to the basement and shower in a corner on an old concrete slab. I made sure I kept my crocs on my feet.

And for this we paid $84 - an outrageous price. As good Australians we just shut up and paid it. The cook Herman felt sorry for us and poured us cokes from the bar, but they were flat. Four cokes later and there were still no bubbles. We just kept drinking. We had walked 18 miles in temperatures over 100 degrees F, and taken 10 hours to get there, and were very hot, tired and dehydrated. Then he brought us slices of watermelon and we devoured those while we waited, and waited.

The B&B welcome is an important part of the experience, and I won't forget this welcome for some time.

Today we leave New Jersey

Five days and we have walked through New Jersey and entered New York. Seems a bit weird that it went so quickly - less than 100 miles. What impressions do we take with us? Firstly - the bears in NJ. There are lots and they ain't scared of hikers. Eight hikers meeting at the Steakhouse in Branchville, just off the trail, all have a bear story to tell. Macguyver tells her story of making a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast, looking up to find a bear swipe the sandwich. We see one large bear which takes our tally to 11 for the trip.

The rocks are not as bad as Pennsylvania but they are still memorable, especially as we had relaxed into thinking that we had escaped the rocks, only to find the ridge from hell on the NewYork/NewJersey border.

One of the main memories will be the 'mayor's house', a place to stay for hikers in the little town of Unionsville which is only half a mile from the trail. We walked into town, and the general store gave us the directions - take the street behind the pub and then the first left and the second house on the left. It felt a bit strange to us wandering down the street hoping that we find the right house. Sure enough as we arrive at the second house, there is a white blaze on the lamp post out the front and somebody sees us and waves us in. Twenty hikers stay that night - 8 in a bunk room, and the rest camped on the back lawn. For a donation of $10, Butch and Bill cook us dinner and breakfast. Bill is 81 years old and runs the kitchen - he serves 20 hikers with a cheese omelette, fried potatoes, two chippalata sausages and a muffin, with jam. No fuss, he just keeps cooking and we keep eating.

We are now walking around 17 miles a day - sometimes up to 20 if the country is easy, and we have caught up to new hikers that we haven't met before - Sourdough, a naturalist from Alaska, Masterchief, a retired soldier, Sweet Tea, an older woman from Alabama, and Macguyver, a psychologist. A few times in the last week we have crossed paths with two awesome young women hiking the trail - I think of them as 'warrior princesses' - Stucco and Scatters. They are smart, strong, carry big packs and walk fast.  We keep catching them, because they take time off to visit friends in towns along the way, while Digby and I just trundle on.

States fly by

Two days ago Digby and I left Virginia after walking 550 miles across that state in 5 weeks. Yesterday we walked into West Virginia. Today we entered Maryland. Tomorrow we enter Pensylvania. Fast heh? There is a race on the trail called the four state challenge which is held each year to see who can complete the four states in the best time. We are content to trundle along.

We reach the half-way mark - Harpers Ferry

This is an emotional moment. We have clocked more than 1000 miles and walk into Harpers Ferry - the town considered to be the 'emotional' half way mark, though the actual half way mark changes each year as new zig zags are added and the distance increases a little bit.

We cross the Shenendoah River on the bridge with four lanes of cars zinging past us and climb through the narrow pathway to emerge in an old part of the town where the Appalachian Train Conservancy has their headquarters. Excitement mounts as we race two young males to be the first hikers to emerge from the forest that day.

There are some spectators cheering us on as we come down the narrow lane. Lo and behold - it is Stickbuilt, Sandy and Paradise who have actually come early to wait for us to arrive. In a strange country, with few contacts we suddenly feel like we have 'family' watching out for us. We met Stickbuilt on the trail over 2 months ago - he knows us by our trail names of Tripper and Wizard from OZ. We find it hard to adapt to call him by his real name - Dave. Paradise is a male in his forties who has walked with us in the first few weeks and then rejoins us to walk part of the Shenendoahs. His real name is Nick. Paradise and Stickbuilt have both suffered injuries to force them to pull out of the hike, in the short term - both are hoping to return and may possibly walk with us when they return.

Our welcoming committee know what thru-hikers need - they have brough an esky full of ice with cans of soft drink and beer. Before Digby does anything else he drinks a beer. I sort through the soft drinks and select a can with the most calories. We have walked for the last 10 days without a break, averaging 15 miles a day in temperatures above 90 degrees F or 35 celsius.

AT the headquarters of the ATC we are processed and have our picture taken in front of the office sign. These photos go into the official photo album - we are number 485 to come through as thru hikers heading north. We browse the photo album, looking for faces that we recognise of people who have passed us - who has made it - who has disappeared and dropped out? Thousands have dropped out before the half way mark. Others have appeared ahead of us, who we know should still be behind us - they have 'yellow blazed' which means hitched a ride on the road and jumped ahead. We are called 'purists' - we are walking every step of the way with no shortcuts. There are few purists on the trail.

Our photo shows how skinny we are. Later we weigh ourselves on Stickbuilt and Sandy's scales and discover that we are both the lightest in living memory. Digby is starting to look like a WW2 prisoner of war with ribs and ribcage very prominent. For me - I now have a real waist and my bottom has disappeared, but the fat layer is still hanging on. The previous day for lunch I had drunk two cans of soft drink and ate a pint of vanilla flavoured icecream - and walked 10 miles and climbed 4,000 ft from the sugar hit!

US Men Do Not Wear Budgie Smugglers

Digby wears 'jocks' - male bikini knickers. He needs new ones after 3 months on the trail. In a small town at about the 850 mile mark he cannot find any replacements in the 'Dollar General' store (like Target) so he buys some ladies bikini knickers instead. He needs underpants which are low cut and do not interfere with the pack waist belt. It is not a pleasant sight - imagine a male trying to squash all his gear into a space designed for girls. He walks in ladies underwear for 150 miles and discovers it to be all right at a pinch but not really comfortable.

We arrive in Washington DC and go on a shopping spree - and three department stores later, we finally find a small rack of Calvin Klein hipster briefs. American males do not wear hipster briefs - they wear daggy high waisted and long legged boxers. Rack after rack of male underpants with short legs, long legs, and thick elastic waist bands, but none with no legs. The burning question - why don't American males wear budgie smugglers? - even Tony Abbott wears budgie smugglers so it can't be an old man conservative thing. I don't have the answer, but watch this space for further updates as I conduct my research interviews with US males walking the trail.

ATMs in the US

Americans love their cars. So there are drive-in ATMs so they don't have to park and walk to get money. But what if you are on foot? You get in the queue with the cars! There is Digby- 3 cars in front of him, two cars behind him. While he waits he makes Brmmm Brmmm noises and turns his imaginary steering wheel from side to side. Getting money out becomes a memoarable event.

desperation - wine and no corkscrew

digby learns the hard way that the US still uses corks in their wine when he opens a bottle with a pocket knife.

We clock over 700 miles

We have arrived at Dalesville - which is really a freeway suburb of a large city called Roanake in Virginia. we are surrounded by franchises for every food imaginable - the only decision is what restaurant to visit tonight - last night was Mexican and I drank my third US 'jumbo marguerita - 12 ounces to the glass.

We are taking a rest day here at a motel run by Indians (from India) - the best place we have stayed on the trail so far. Digby's bad knee was extremely swollen yesterday and we are both feeling exhausted having walked the last 6 days from Pearisburg climbing very mountainous terrain every day. And they said Virgina walking was easy! So far this is not so. we had to climb to the Dragons Tooth - a monolith and the descent was very steep and cliffy and rocky. At one point I lost my balance on a descent over a cliff and pitched forward over the cliff to be caught in a tree and wedged with my pack between the cliff and the tree, completely suspended and jammed. Digby seeing me disappearing over the edge made a lunge to catch my pack before I fell but he missed and then overbalanced as his pack pushed him over the edge of the cliff too. alas he had no tree to catch him and i watched him roll down past me. he was fine and extracted me from the jam, but it was a wake up call for us.

A new record - 58 days on the trail

We have now been hiking longer than we have ever hiked before on a long distance walk. Our previous record was 56 days for the Bibbulman Track. How do we feel ?- fit, lean and hungry. A few aches and pains especially as we start to increase our daily distances to between 15-20 miles.

A typical day on the trail has us eating porridge for breakfast with a cup of tea and walking by 7.45am. We stop around 10.00am for a snack of nuts and m and ms. Then keep walking to around 1. Often we have a lunch at a shelter as it is usually a mid point, and other hikers often appear for a bit of a social lunch. We usually stop hiking around 5 then have a cup of 'cowboy' coffee - ground coffee boiled in the billy - and then some soup, rice and some tuna. usually in bed asleep by 8.00.

Does this sound boring?? There are many bits of excitement and changes to make every day different. Tonight we are staying at Woods Hole hostel near Pearisburg - a log cabin that was rediscovered in the woods by a researcher looking for elk, that had been built in the 1890s and abandoned.

Some pioneer stories

As we are walking along the Tennessee - North Carolina border between Hot Springs and Erwin, we have come across some poignant stories and reminders of the past - remants in the hickory and hemlock forests, as the trail winds through.

The first is a grave stone - the name is forgotten but the birth and death dates stand out in my mind - a woman born april 1865, died may 1965. There are plastic flowers next to the head stone. One hundred years old and her remains are buried on a small knoll several hundred feet above Recor Laurle Rd. We climb past the grave another hundred feet and come to a small level campsite which on closer inspection shows that it is the site of an old homestead. The fireplace is tumbled into a pile of stones. The timber log cabin walls are still jointed but pushed over on to their side. There is an old slow combustion stove and a rusted water tank. I imagine the old woman living here until she was 100, bringing up her family, deep in the forest, miles from anywhere. She refuses to leave her home, and when she dies it is demolished into a pile of rubble, and the headstone is the only reminder.

The other site is marked on the map as the Shelford Graves - a site where an uncle and nephew who were in the Union army were shot dead in 1863 as they returned home to their family in confederate territory. This site is marked by artificial flowers too. It seems so long ago, but what we have learned, is that the war is still being fought in the south, and that the confederacy is alive and well. At Hot Springs, we see an advertisment for the coming civil war re-enactment weekend. They replay the battles and wear the uniforms. Even in the current newspapers you can pick up the 'them and us' as the southern states try and work out how to fight Obama's health reforms which are seen as the greatest attack on personal liberties, and local politicians are trying to rally the masses to the cause.