Hannah and Dan Hike the Appalachian Trail (AT) at Bear Mountain State Park, New York

          Driving in the dark of an early October morning from our home in York, Maine, Hannah and I arrive at Bear Mountain State Park, New York four hours later, eager to add a new state to our list of states where we’ve hiked the AT.  After parking at the Perkins Tower, the birthplace of the Appalachian Trail, we quickly descend over stone steps built into the side of the mountain in the 1930s wearing long sleeve tee shirts, sweat shirts, and pants.  Spotting a thru-hiker, we learn he’s a flip flopper. He completed the northern New England part of the AT earlier in the year to beat the bad weather that comes to NH, VT, and ME in the fall, then he doubles back to complete parts of the AT in NJ, NY, and CT when the weather will be better.  Asking about what he did during the heavy rain two nights before, we learn he spent the night in motel in Tuxedo, NY.  My kind of hiker.  Please, there’s no reason to get soaked. 

          Soon we hit a decaying paved sidewalk halfway hiking down the mountain, but our trail is clearly marked with white blazes (2”x6” white marks on trees or rocks), which we see ever 40-50 feet.  A double white blaze means the trail turns.  A blue blaze means there is a side trail.  We climb down and cross Seven Lakes Drive and soon are hiking straight up West Mountain.  It’s a serious climb with rocks and roots afoot. Huffing, puffing, and barely talking, we meet two guys at the top who tell us that it’s less than a mile to the West Mountain shelter.  Hot damn.  In all our hiking of the AT, we have not seen a shelter or a lean-to where thru hikers spend nights on their way to Mt. Katahdin in Maine.  As we ridge hike, we have level terrain and magnificent views. 

Soon we see the sign that has us follow the blue blazes for six-tenths miles to the shelter.  Hannah wonders why would they build the shelter more than a half mile off the main trail.  Immediately we see why as the opening of this three-sided stone shelter dramatically faces the wide part of the Hudson River with a canopy of trees below, with yellow and orange among the mostly green forest.  In the distance we see the skyline of New York City.  The platform of the three-sided shelter is wood planks, maybe eight feet wide and twenty feet long.  Stone fireplaces are set in either side of the structure, with each having a metal grate for cooking meals.  All of this built on a base of granite.  It’s impressive, but not for Danny.   Sleeping on these boards with fifteen other snoring folks is not my idea of good time.

          Heading down the mountain, we need our trekking sticks as the fall’s acorns make for a slippery descent.  With many people on the trail, there is a festive atmosphere as we offer to take pictures of other couples and use that time to break for conversation.   

          Nearly four hours later we summit at Perkins Tower to a parking lot buzzing with weekenders and nary a space to park.  This is no surprise being this close to New York City and within 50 miles of at least a billion people.  It’s a fabulous hike, but go early.  One week later, our son Will, daughter Molly, and her finance Tip arrived in the early afternoon at the drive up to the Perkins Tower only to see the road closed to any further cars since the parking area was full. 

          As always when hiking, know thyself, thy limits, and the conditions.  Be prepared.

Hannah and Dan visit Arlington National Cemetery, Washington, District of Columbia

The day after losing in a rout to DC traffic, Hannah and I appreciatively take to the DC Metro for our travels.  A simple, functioning credit card is all it takes to ride the Blue Line from Virginia to the Arlington National Cemetery (ANC).  Literally at the entrance to the ANC, the Metro stop is an easy walk to the information center.  At the information booth, the seasoned older woman, but not as old as we are, tries to encourage us to take the $7.50 tour bus.  When we demur, she says, “But there are hills up to the Lee Mansion.”  To which we think but don’t say, “Yes, that’s just what we want.  Look at us.  We are crazed uber-exercisers.  Hillz r us!”  She does tell us that the three sites that all touristos go to are: 1. the Kennedy grave, 2. the Robert E. Lee Mansion, and 3. the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  For us, because of the HBO film “Section 60”                     http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/section-60-arlington-national-cemetery/index.html, we are drawn to that part of the cemetery where the latest casualties of war are buried.   

Immediately I am taken with solemnity, peace, and quiet as we walk on roads by the symmetrically organized white tombstones among the mature deciduous trees.  Though it’s a busy, low 70 degree Saturday in early October, the crowds are respectful and reserved.  I wonder, why do people come here?  It’s a cliché that we come to respect and honor those that gave in Lincoln’s words their last full measure of devotion.  As with an cliché, there is a whole lot of truth to it, but it lacks a personal connection and meaning for me.  Hannah says it’s evidence of the idiocy and cost of war.  You go girl.

At the Kennedy Grave, I have forgotten but am reminded of the Kennedy family heartache, as there is a marker for a stillborn Kennedy child and another for a child who lived but two days.  Bobby Kennedy and recently buried Ted Kennedy are there to the left.  John Kennedy is a rock star to those of us over 60; we remain his groupies. 

Biting into an apple as we leave the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a security guard approaches and quietly tells us, “No food is allowed on the grounds.  It’s a $100 fine if the cameras catch you.”  Embarrassed, we sheepishly stuff the half eaten apples into Hannah’s backpack.  Those could have been some expensive free motel apples. 

Down the hill, we then walk to Section 60.  It is one thing to see gravestones of WWI and II soldiers who served and later died in their 70s after a long life. It’s another to see the name of a 20 year old born in 1990 who was killed this very summer in Afghanistan.  Soon we see what I imagine to be the parents of a dead soldier.  Mom kneels and rubs the white tombstone in reverence.  Dad stands somberly by.  Comedy Central comedians John Stewart and Stephen Colbert are holding a joint rally in four weeks at the National Mall, not a mile away, that will draw a vast 20-and 30-something crowd; a crowd that has been insulated from these wars and the political process because there is no draft or required universal service.  Today the war in Afghanistan goes on with little impact on the middle and professional class as the working and underclass fight our wars. The recent Memorial Day showing at our local York, Maine library of Taking Chance with Kevin Bacon brings this fact home (http://www.hbo.com/movies/taking-chance/index.html).

We see a wife cut flowers to make a bouquet for a pot to lay at a gravestone.  From a distance we see he died in 2006.  Her memories and love do not die.  We see an old graying black man sitting on a milk crate as a witness.  He rests his hands and chin on his cane.  He wipes his eyes.  Did he lose a son or a daughter?  We do not disturb his vigil, but we get close enough to see it was his wife’s gravestone; she died in May of this year. 

We step lightly on freshly turned dirt.  A female director at ANC and a male colonel notice us and approach.  I’ve got to tell you this story.  The ground you are standing next to is that of a recently reburied soldier who died three years ago.  His soldier roommate, who was just killed, wanted to be buried next to his friend.  In a magnanimous gesture, the family of the soldier from Wisconsin, who died three years ago, agreed to have him reburied at ANC in time for Monday’s funeral service.  I can’t imagine a greater gesture of love and respect for the recently killed soldier’s wife, children, and parents.

As is often the case, Abraham Lincoln said it best at Gettysburg nearly a century and a half ago about why we honor these soldiers.  

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Dan and Hannah Hike the Appalachian Trail at Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia into Maryland

         After breakfast at the Bagel Bakery in Arlington, VA with our daughter Molly and fiancé Tip in early October, we borrow her Honda Civic, get a quick GPS lesson, and head West for Harper’s Ferry, WV to hike the Appalachian Trail (AT).  Always behind the technological curve, Hannah and I go kicking, screaming, and reluctantly into the technology future.  The GPS seems kind of cool so we learn enough from Molly and head West.   Immediately skeptical, we take the fallback position and resort to our map of Virginia and Google map directions.  A foolhardy choice to be sure for soon we are heading in the opposite direction towards Reagan National Airport.  What else would you expect from country mice?  Fuming and cursing big city traffic and taking none of the blame myself for our predicament, I abandon the maps and directions and let the GPS do its thing.  And voila, in 80 minutes we park behind the Appalachian Trail Conference headquarters on Washington Street in Harper’s Ferry, WV.  GPS!  Amore.

Met by the garrulous and ever friendly David T behind the counter, we plan our day’s hike with his help. Wanting to day hike in all 14 states of the Appalachian Trail, today we will bag two of them, West Virginia and Maryland.  Heading toward the Shenandoah River, we mosey through one time Storer College (http://www.nps.gov/archive/hafe/storer.htm), a failed, but worthy experiment in integrated higher education in the South.  Stone steps take us down to historic Harper’s Ferry, where abolitionist John Brown (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4p2940.html) raided the federal arsenal in 1859.  Though he failed in his immediate goal and was hung, he ignited a smoldering nation to the injustices of slavery and was credited with being a major factor in lighting one of the matches that started the Civil War or, as it is known south of the Mason-Dixon Line where we are today, the War Between the States. 

In moments we leave the downtown and cross a railroad bridge into Maryland for three miles of hiking on the tree shaded bike path of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Park (http://www.nps.gov/choh/).  On this 75 degree day in early fall, Hannah and I walk side by side with the Shenandoah River mere feet to our right, a set of locks to our left, and just beyond that a railroad running through this gap in the Appalachian Mountains. Spotting our holy grail, a thru hiker (one who hikes the entire AT during one calendar year), we look to vicariously live through his Maine to Georgia experience.  Unfortunately, that same beautiful technology that brought us here by the GPS intrudes as he walks oblivious to us with his IPod earphone buds in and a straight ahead focus.  Technology!  Bah!

          Leaving the canal path, we began our ascent to Weverton Cliffs high above the Shenandoah River.  The trail is rocky and takes us beneath US highway 340.  Different from the trails in much of New England, this Maryland trail has many switchbacks, which gently directs us to the cliffs and makes for an excellent cardio-vascular work out.  Arriving after nearly two hours of hiking, we doff our hiking boots and socks and lunch on crackers with peanut butter, trail mix, and a motel breakfast apple.  Away from the demands of responding to papers, planning lessons, cutting hair, and keeping a household going, we drink in the freedom and savor the personal choice of the afternoon.  Weverton Cliffs has a steep drop off and we wonder what would we do if we lost one of these boots we just took off.  Food, water, our packs, all would pale in comparison to losing a boot or two.  I inch back from the edge.

          This eleven and half mile loop returns us to the rock strewn 400-yard wide Shenandoah River where we see a family rafting and kayakers practicing their paddling techniques.  Nearly four hours of hiking wearies us in a pleasing way.  The real challenge lies ahead: Finding our way back to Arlington, VA.  Maps get us to Dulles Airport, but in the end we have no choice.  We do what we must.  In GPS we trust.  And lo and behold it gets us there safe and sound! 

Weverton Cliffs from Harper’s Ferry hike – Excellent.

Footnote – Within weeks we buy our own Garmin GPS.  We are immediately infatuated. 

Gorham Mountain and the Bowl at Acadia National Park (An agreeably sane hike)

Yes, there are insane hikes at Acadia National Park (ANP) for those over 60 and, let me say, for those well under 60.  The Precipice and Beehive trails have iron rungs to grip as you grasp your way up the mountain.  I’ve only seen pictures of these quote trails, (http://www.acadiamagic.com/precipice-trail.htm) since my acrophobia has made it clear that it wants no part of them.  And if the height isn’t enough, the relentlessly rocky terrain beats hikers into submission.  That’s rock climbing to me, not hiking.   I’m glad I got that off my chest.

Taking to the Park Loop Road towards the Atlantic Ocean, Hannah and I find ample parking in lots or along side the road to Sand Beach.  A short walk on the Ocean Trail (http://www.acadiamagic.com/ocean_path.html) and we descend to Sand Beach, popular and busy, but not so much so that it’s overwhelming, even on this beautiful Saturday in early September.  On the trail just above Sand Beach, we meet a couple from Quebec.  After a few minutes, the elderly husband of the two blurts out, “Your wife is beautiful.”  All I can say is you are so right!.  Got to love those Canadians.  The terrain is easy on the feet as we hike through coastal forests.  Even though there are water views on three sides, 90% of the people stay on Sand Beach. 

As experienced vacationers of the hiking sort, we debate the Eternal Morning Dilemma.  Does one get up early to beat the crowds to hike or do we ride our bikes through Bar Harbor just after dawn, breakfast with coffee and home-made Hannah banana muffins while writing post cards and reading the New Yorkers that have gone unread?  Clearly from the personalizing of the second half of that question it is obvious we choose the later for we love our morning rituals, whether at home or on the road. 

As we meet a couple from Michigan, they ask us about lobstering (Being from Maine, I dazzle them with my baseless air of authority when it comes to seafood.), we razz them about their football team and are reminded of the importance of thanking people for small kindnesses (e.g., letting us proceed first when we meet on the trail).  There’s often a humanity on the trail that we don’t see on the highways and roads. 

Walking down the Park Loop Road we enter the Gorham Mountain Trailhead (http://www.acadiamagic.com/gorham-mountain.html) for the one-mile trek to the aforementioned Mount G and then another mile on to the Bowl, a pond tucked into the mountains.  On this hour hike, we use the rubber stoppers on our trekking sticks, as much of the trail is over rock, not insanely steep rock, but rock nonetheless.  The water in the Bowl pond is refreshing as we dangle our debooted feet in the water with frogs and turtles.  Many hikers are here, some swimming and all knowing how unbelievably lucky they are to be here on a sunny Saturday in September.  The trail to and from the Bowl is well marked with blue blazes and cairns.  Feeling adventurous we travel home by way of the Cadillac Cliffs.  Don’t make that mistake if you hike this trail.  It is a rock strewn, mostly precipitously steep climb along the cliffside with absolutely no views of the ocean.  But there is no doubt that the rating of the Mount Gorham to the Bowl hike is excellent.        

As always when hiking, know thyself, thy limits, and the conditions.  Be prepared.