Preamble

Me and Bogey on McAfee Knob, Virginia in 2012

With only a day or so left before we depart on our Appalachian Trail "half-hike", I'm still working through a very stubborn list of To Do's. While there's no show stoppers on the list, there's about two dozen other items that probably should be completed before we shoulder our packs and set out northward from Pen Mar Park on Saturday.

With the launch of this online journal, I can cross one of those tasks off my list.

This year, we have roughly 90 days before Bogey has to be back in school (for her final semester!) and I need to return to the world of The Gainfully Employed. In that time, we hope to cover most of the northern half of the Appalachian Trail. Alas, we haven't reached a consensus on how far we might make. Bogey is determined this won't be a death march while I would like to do at least a thousand miles.

Her argument is valid: there's no sense in pushing ourselves so that the trek becomes uncomfortable and we forget to stop and smell the roses (or fir trees, hemlocks, pines, and whatnot). In 2012, there were so many times we'd summit a mountain and not even stop to enjoy the view or savor the accomplishment. Our days, after awhile, became merely a matter of making the miles. I can appreciate her point of view.

On the other hand, I like nice, easy-to-measure goals. A thousand miles sounds good to me. It's a nice round number, makes a good story, and is easy for even me to remember. Plus, a 1000 miles would put us in Monson, Maine, where it'll be easier to get transportation back to Maryland. Also, Monson puts us just shy of the 100 Mile Wilderness, which would pretty much commit us to another week to 10 days and most likely blow our return before her classes begin. And, as long as you've crossed the 100 Mile Wilderness, you might as well continue a little farther and summit Mount Katahdin, the northern terminus of the official Appalachian Trail. In any case, I'd be happy to get to Monson but Bogey is skeptical. We'll see.

The Trail as it leads across a small bald or stamp. Balds are mountain tops with no trees. Naturalists and historians are still unsure how balds come to be. Stamps are mountain tops or ridges that were cleared of undergrowth (and sometimes trees) so that their livestock could graze (or stomp, which turned into the word stamp). I always like these patches as they are a break from trees, trees, trees.

A Word About Trail Names

Part of the fun and one of the traditions of the Appalachian Trail (and other long distance hikes) is your trail name. Your trail name is often bestowed upon you by other hikers based on your personality, gear, habits, an event, your hometown, or an anecdote.

If you're lucky, you can give yourself a trail name and it'll stick. However, an unwritten rule is that your trail name can be changed -- often time by others. All it takes is one unfortunate event or silly habit and you could spend the next few hundred miles going by "Trip 'n' Fall", "Big Stink", or "Boogers". No one said long distance hikers were mature.

I (Bill or, to my family, Bobby) was lucky enough to pick my trail name, "Hat", and have it stick. It didn't hurt that I wore a cowboy hat in 2012 and it stood out. (It was also very useful and I can't imagine hiking now without my sun shade/umbrella/bucket/nightstand/signaling device/conversation piece.)

Bogey (Stephanie, in real life), on the other hand, was given and graciously accepted her trail name due to her prowess and uncanny accuracy with snot rockets. There's a classy lady, that one.

IRL

In real life, I'm a software developer typically working as of late for Corporate America (though the people with whom I worked are great and many have become close friends). Bogey is a student at a local university and will be wrapping up her final semester this Fall. We met on the Trail in 2012 and soon became friends and hiking partners. We've been a part of each other's life since.

Where to Go from Here

By this time Saturday, we should be at Pen Mar Park, which straddles the Maryland-Pennsylvania state line and through which the Appalachian Trail runs. We'll say our goodbyes to Bogey's family and our dog, Pancake, grab our packs, make sure our water bottles are filled, adjust our trekking poles to comfortable lengths, and start walking north.

Updates to come.

Sleek and nearly skinny me, in 2012, after a few weeks on the Trail. This picture was probably taken in Georgia or maybe North Carolina. Over the course of our hike, I lost roughly 35 lbs. over the Summer. I hope to do the same this year, as well.