The Last Trail Log

A few years ago we started putting a Log Book into, what had been, an empty box on a portion of the Appalachian Trail near our home. The box is about an hour walk in from West Mombasha Rd. and a little less from the next road crossing near Fitzgerald Falls, Greenwood Lake. A nice hike either way.

A few years ago we started putting a Log Book into, what had been, an empty box on a portion of the Appalachian Trail near our home. The box is about an hour walk in from West Mombasha Rd. and a little less from the next road crossing near Fitzgerald Falls, Greenwood Lake. A nice hike either way.

The walk to the Trail Log climbs steep, rocky hills and winds through forests that, back one hundred, maybe one hundred-fifty years ago, must have been some farmer’s fields. Stone walls snake through the oak and maple, thousands of stones piled in long, organized rows. How many hours of work? How many stones had to be moved? Why make these walls in the first place? A project that required so much effort must have seemed important, maybe vital, at the time. Today it only makes us wonder why. Taken a step further, how long will the must-do thing that you’re working on today last? Will anyone know why? Will it matter?
 
The 2018 Trail Log had 624 entries. There were day hikers, section hikers, through hikers and more than one group of scouts. Some passed through seeking nature, others seeking solace from a city life only an hour away. Some were beginning their journey and, at least one, was almost done:
          “Can’t believe it’s almost over, only two more miles until I finish my through hike.”

Keep in mind the Appalachian trail is 2,181 miles long. The people who laid it out didn’t go around obstacles (i.e. mountains), they seemed to always go over them. How long does it take to walk 2,181 miles? This traveler did it in two parts over two summers.
 
I didn’t know this at first, but when you walk the Trail you take on a new identity. Your old life, your old cares, don’t matter. You also have to claim a new identity and take a trail name. Trail names must mean something to each hiker. Maybe not. You decide:
          Chicken Fat, Girl-With-an -Attitude, Puddles, Pacemaker, Dingo, Mountain Goat, Sponge
 
Some hikers just write their names- trail names remember- in the Log book and others leave a message. Messages can be matter-of-fact:
          “mosquitos!”, “the rain was wonderful”, “cold at midnight!”

While other messages have meaning, perhaps deeply hidden and some messages leave you wondering if the hiker had walked too long:
          “Snakes don’t use umbrellas.”
          “This is where my wife proposed to me thirty years ago”
          “Whether you are running from demons or chasing truth, over the next ridge you will find peace on the trail.”
 
This should be our last trail log on the AT. The plan is to move west this summer and try new trails of our own. We’ve left care of the book in good hands for 2019.

Maybe a new log on a new trail next year? Why not? HAPPY TRAILS!

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