. . .those who hike on trails and those who maintain trails.  Now, that’s not to say that the hikers do not occasionally do a little trail work or that the maintainers don’t enjoy a hike.  But what it comes down to is that people do tend to cotton to one side or the other.

I thought about that the other day as I joined a Georgia AT Club trail maintaining crew to work on a mile of the Len Foote Trail.  The five-mile trail begins at the top of Amicalola Falls in North Georgia and meanders five miles over oak and hickory ridges and down through rhododendron and laurel tunnels before arriving at the little backcountry paradise we call the Len Foote Hike Inn.  Three crews were formed, and the job was to clear roots, repair and build water bars, set in wooden steps and build benches.  I was assigned to the bench building group.

Among my crew were some chainsaw-certified experts whose job it was to select a suitable black locust to use for bench timber.  They quickly located one that was close enough to the trail to actually use and far enough away to not be noticeable by its absence.  Considerable brainpower goes into felling a hardwood in the spot where you want it.  I always watch in awe as a tree comes down — so much power, energy and danger is released as the sylvan leviathan crashes down in all its glory.  Any superfluous limbs and twigs in its path are violently smashed before the final explosive impact with the forest floor.  Quickly, the sawyers selected two bench-length sections and four stanchions to support the main benches.

Then, using straps and assigning eight individuals to tote, we hauled the two big logs to their final resting place, a spot on the trail where we were establishing seating for an outdoor classroom.  It was like being a pallbearer, except we were carrying our loads to a spot where they would receive new life.  Then, we began using hand axes, pulaski blades and drawknives to skin the bark off the logs. As we did that, the sawyers, notched the stanchions — sort of the way you do on a log cabin — and flattened the tops of the two bench logs.  Sawdust and wood chips flew in all directions as we worked in a fine drizzle.  At last, we were ready to heft the logs onto the support stanchions where they will probably sit for many years after most of us on the crew breathe our last.  Black locust is known to last a long dang time, and I hope these benches will stand the test of many years and the burden of many hikers’ butts.

I am more hiker than maintainer.  I love watching experts who delight in plying their skills as maintainers and still don’t mind having me around to supply a little assistance.  It was a good day that ended with aching backs, wet fleece jackets, muddy boots and renewed love for the trail.  As we hiked back to meet the other crews, we were impressed by the great work they did in repairing the trail and protecting it for the future.  The Hike Inn Trail is one of the most popular Forest Service trails in Georgia. If we want to avoid loving it to death, we need the expertise and dedication of the Georgia Appalachian Trail Club to keep it in shape.  If this recent work day was any indication, the trail is in good hands.  Go use it!

I recently rejoined the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association after a long period of being off their rolls and went up to Shippensburg State University to attend their annual conference a couple of weekends ago.  Due to 10 inches of rain over two days, the playing field set aside for tents was looking pretty soggy, so I slept for two nights in my Subaru Forester which actually turned out to be astonishingly comfortable.  High point of the weekend for me was being called to the front of the general meeting with my old pal, Bustace, and recognized for having the oldest thru-hikes among the crowd of a few hundred people.  Seeing as how the room was packed to the gills with thru-hikers of many trails — particularly the beloved AT — I was mighty pleased to reunite with Bustace.  On my SOBO hike forty years ago, Bustace and Jim Podlesney followed me all the way down the AT.  They knew all about me, because they read my solitary musings in trail journals.  But I never knew about them until later.  In fact, I did not actually meet Eric Shallenberger (Bustace) until 35 years later — another story unto itself. Great fun being at the conference and meeting all kinds of wonderful trail folk, particularly Larry Luxenberg and Margy Schmidt, who worked with me on getting THRU in shape for publication — most likely in November.  I also enjoyed chatting with Ron Tipton, new ED of the ATC, a genuinely nice gentleman whose erudition and gentle- spirited camaraderie with the hiking crowd bode well for the ATC.  Also enjoyed spent time with Model T, Bob Peoples and lots of other true trail characters.  Baltimore Jack my favorite of the colorful characters.  I  asked him to be our guest at the Len Foote Hike Inn next time he visits Amicalola Falls so that he can do an after-dinner presentation for our guests.  For my money, Baltimore Jack is on the top of the heap of dedicated trail rats who have inculcated the AT into the very fiber of their life.  Hooray for them all!  So hang in there hiking friends.  Stay vertical, keep walking and get ready to read THRU: An Appalachian Trail Love Story real soon.

Each year — normally in the fall — I join a group of buddies on a wilderness adventure.  We have explored some of the nations greatest wilderness with backpacks and canoes.  Examples include the Boundary Waters, the High Uintas, the Wind River Wilderness, the Allagash Waterway, Yellowstone, a couple of Alaska trips, and a number of Appalachian Trail treks.  Last week we dodged forest fires in California and spent some time in the backcountry of Yosemite National Park.

My friends and I go way back, including one who I have known for more than 60 years, literally since we were infants.  We indulge in ruthless humor and frequently finish each other’s sentences.  I cannot express how much I treasure these old friendships.

We had perfect weather and camped at such gorgeous spots as Cathedral Lakes and Sunrise Lakes.  For me, the high spot was peaking out at Cloud’s Rest, the high point of Yosemite, which provides a sensational view of Halfdome and Yosemite Valley.  To reach the summit, you wind your way along a perilous knife-edge bordered by 2,500-foot sheer rock walls scoured out by (according to John Muir) glaciers.

I am at a point in life where I can make time to visit places like Yosemite.  I urge people who are working and who have tight schedules to get themselves and their families out to the national parks.  Years ago, I took my kids to Disneyworld.  I told them to enjoy it, because in the future we were going to see the “real stuff.”  For many years thereafter, we motored and flew all over America when my vacation time allowed.  We camped in national parks all over America and saw all 48 contiguous states.  I think it was worth it, and if you asked my wife and kids, I’m sure they would agree.  After all, Dan and Laura are both A.T. thru-hikers, so it is undeniable that they both love wilderness.

I made it a point to rewatch the Ken Burns National Parks episode about John Muir and Yosemite before making last week’s trip.  Although the parks are crowded much of the time — even the backcountry trails — a hiker can still get a strong sense of what wilderness is all about.  The sky was pure blue, even with the fires raging north of the park.  It is hard to believe that air can be so perfect with the West Coast megalopolis so close by.  I got a true sense at times of what called John Muir to the wilderness.

Book update:  Margy tells me the ebook formatting for THRU:  An Appalachian Trail Love Story will be completed soon.  I’ll get the word out when that happens.  Meanwhile, stay vertical and keep walking.  There is always another trail out there to hike for the first time.

Patsy and I are exhausted, as are our friends Steve and Sandy Skinner.  We just returned from two weeks of old-fashioned tourist travel in Alaska.  We began at Fairbanks and made our way down to Denali Park where we saw grizzlies, moose, sheep, caribou, porcupines, and lots of birds and small mammals.  It was my second time to the park and the most productive in terms of spotting critters.  Then we went south by train through the wilderness to Denali State Park where we finally experienced clear weather and a great view of Mt. McKinley — best view I have ever managed of that big rock.  When I think of my friend, Marianne Skeen, I am filled with admiration that she has climbed it twice.  Just looking at it wears me out.  

Then, we took a train to Whittier and hopped on the Diamond Princess cruise ship for a week down the inside passage with stops at Skagway, Juneau and Ketchikan.  We saw more grizzly, oodles of whales and the best look at glaciers I’ve ever had.  We also treated ourselves to a float plane trip back into Misty Fiords National Monument — good grief, what a sight!  Nobody needed a barf bag.

What strikes me about luxury travel is that I love it.  The food, entertainment, cushy excursions and overall pampered lifestyle caters to every whim of modern man (and woman).  But I still think the best way to see the wilderness is with a pack on your back — away from cars, planes, stereos, smartphones, deadlines, bosses, and annoying corporate culture.  Oddly, I saw more wildlife on the Alaska trip than I managed while backpacking in Nepal and Maine earlier this year.  But I still love those deep-woods boondocks.  I have to confess, though, that having beer and ice cream on demand while sitting in a deck chair and watching whales has much to recommend it.  

THRU is making progress, and I will report on it soon.  Meanwhile — stay vertical and walk.