Appalachian Trail tests Orono hiker

AppalachianMore than a few of multitudes of you out there (29 or 30 now) have hinted to me in not-so-subtle tones that I’ve devoted way too much time to paddle sports. I think the gist of the comments can be boiled down to “Who gives a Rat’s Petootie about sea kayaking? When are we gonna read something else?”

Fair enough. I’ll admit it. Paddling is something I really enjoy. And it’s something just about everyone can do. And it’s been one of the fastest growing outdoor activities. But for today I’m going to put it on the shelf – give it a rest, if you will (even though I had a nice afternoon last Sunday on Pushaw with paddling companions that I’d love to tell you about). I won’t mention paddling again – this week.

I’ll throw a bone to my hiking constituents, if there are any left, and tell you about a charming young Orono woman, Jennifer Brooks, 21, who decided – pretty much on a whim – to take a hike on the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine.

This wasn’t one of those years-in-the-planning sort of hikes, not the long-awaited hike of a lifetime. It was, in her words, a “last minute sort of thing.” She hadn’t been an avid hiker. She was working at Cadillac Mountain Sports last summer in Bangor. It was a transition year after college. A colleague was planning the hike “and I just decided that I wanted to go!” That was in September.

In the ensuing five months she got busy planning, and with some gear advice from Cadillac Mountain Sports colleague Jason White and a lot of support from her parents (especially during the hike when they would send supplies to the next town) she was off to Georgia and a great adventure. She made the approach to Springer Mountain on March 3 and was on the trail March 4 with a friend Dave Kilgour.

The first three days were “awful,” she said, despite the fact she thought her boots were broken in and that she had been able to keep her pack weight at a respectable 35 pounds. “It was freezing, it was raining, the rain was freezing. The first night was 8 degrees and we had about 20 mph winds. It was a very uncomfortable evening … just plain miserable,” she said. “And then the next morning all that rain had frozen onto the trail so it was a little precarious.”

At the outset, Brooks said, her feet paid a price for not having broken in her boots while carrying a loaded pack. The first day they hiked 8 miles, the next 13, and 7 on the third and her feet were shot. She had to hitchhike into a town 70 miles away and rest for three days and try to repair her feet. She wound up hiking in her Birkenstocks after that. The experience was emotionally discouraging, but phone calls home and parental support helped her through it.

Like most AT hikers, she soon adopted a trail name, Digga, Down East for Digger, which is short for hiker with a penchant for falling and making great holes in the ground – at least a dozen and a half times. Fortunately for her, Digga didn’t break anything and managed to fall only once into a body of water.

It may have provided an opportunity to do an impromptu laundry, but when you’re wearing all of your warm clothes it could have been a serious situation. To keep her pack weight reasonable, Brooks carried and/or wore (roughly): a 20-degree rated sleeping bag, a foam sleeping pad, two bottles of water, a two-person tent (or the poles since two hikers try to share common gear), two sets of poly-pro long underwear, convertible pants, two T-shirts, camp shoes, an MSR Superfly stove, a cook pot, extra socks, a toothbrush, a bandana and lots of food.

I wondered whether she used rain gear. Yep, but it’s primary use was as a pack cover.

And a water filter? No, a couple of drops of bleach per quart of water did the job.

Pop Tarts or granola became a breakfast staple, humus, pita bread, fruit and candy bars were lunch and snack fare, and mac and cheese was a regular dinner entr?e, supplemented by scavenged food from hiker boxes at hostels or post offices where other hikers left prepared dehydrated food they didn’t want. “You can almost re-supply out of those, actually, … we found some really good food in them,” Brooks said. “You become a scavenger!”

What did Brooks find most rewarding on her seven-month, $3,200 trip?

“Collectively … I’d say it was the people I met on the trail … you’re sharing something with these people that you may only know for a week, but you’ll remember them for the rest of your life. Even people who weren’t hiking, like the trail angels who took us in for a night … that’s something that I don’t know if I’ll ever see again. It really restores your faith in people.”

If she had to choose a day that was the best in the seven months, Brooks said it was going though the Graison Highlands in Virginia where the feral ponies are located. They just run around wild yet occasionally let you get close enough to touch them.

In contrast the worst day happened in Shanendoah National Park in Virginia when Brooks “hit the wall.” It’s “when your body is just so taxed and you just don’t know if you can do any more …it was just really hot.” There were several other times in electric storms when “you’re stuck and all you can do is walk faster. You can’t stop anywhere ‘cuz everything’s falling all around you. It’s quite the adrenaline raiser.”

What souvenirs did she bring back, aside from a lifetime’s worth of memories? A mixed-breed Lab named Marley she picked up at a pound along the way, and a new boyfriend, John Sonnenberg (trail name Droopy because he had droopy drawers from losing so much weight) she met on the trail around Blood Mountain in Georgia. You know, as a father of two daughters, that didn’t surprise me.

At 7p.m., Tuesday, Cadillac Mountain Sports’ Frank Fitzpatrick will present a slide show of his year-long stay at the Amunson/Scott Station in Antarctica at the Maine Outdoor Adventure Club’s monthly meeting. Did you know there was such a thing as the southern lights? Do you know many pictures a camera can take at 100 degrees below zero? Come find out. Then on Saturday, Nov. 9, MOAC invites folks interested in learning about MOAC to hike Flying Mountain on Somes Sound in Acadia National Park. This is an easy hike with beautiful views and great company! Contact Gail Downs 990-2350.

Jeff Strout can be reached at 990-8202 or by e-mail at jstrout@bangordailynews.net.