What Really Got You Hooked on Hiking?

[WIAPilot]

Family? Scouting? I bet there are some great stories out there!

[Sarcasm the elf]

The Internet...

[10-K]

I'm not hooked... I can quit anytime.

...pssst... The first hike is free.

[Trail_Name]

Honestly? This: and it was confirmed by every hike since!

[Mags]

From my website:


1986 was the year I climbed Mt. Lafayette in New Hampshire. It was also my first time on the Appalachian Trail.


This is a story of my first time on the Appalachian Trail. In 1987 I was a Boy Scout in Troop 71 in my home town of Coventry, RI. Never went on a mountain before that day. The love of the outdoors would remain dormant but it came back with vengeance ten years later. This account was originally published in the March-April 2000 issue of Appalachian Trailway News; the magazine of the Appalachian Trail Conference.



Boy Scout Troop 71 of Coventry, Rhode Island is taking its annual Columbus Day Weekend camping trip to Mt. Lafayette in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It is October 1986. I’m part of the troop, twelve years old, all excited that I’m going to get to go on a real mountain! And, to make this trip extra special, Dad’s going to be chaperone.

Dad often works overtime on Saturdays; ours is a young family –money and time are scarce. To spend a whole weekend with Dad is a treat.

Friday afternoon, I come home from school and see all the clothes Mom has packed for the trip. Mom’s afraid I’m going to “freeze up North”. The entire bed’s covered with warm clothes: several pairs of jeans, flannel shirts, sweaters, socks, and long underwear. Somehow, it seems like this is too much clothing for a three-day camping trip, but what do I know? I’m just twelve. For this trip I’m going to get to hike with my official Boy Scout rucksack, made of cotton canvas. Dad has even let me have his official U.S. Army pocket knife. With my rucksack, and knife, I’m going to climb that mountain!

Saturday mornings, all the Boy Scouts show up at the community center. I have on my hiking clothes: Sears Toughskins jeans, flannel shirt, long cotton underwear, sweat shirt, work boots. The bus ride to New Hampshire takes more than three hours, longer even than that ride to the big city of Providence. Looking out the windows, I see mountains. “No”, Dad says. “They’re just foothills”. If the foothills are this big, I think, how big are the mountains?
The bus finally pulls up the campground. Several canvas A-Frame tents have been set up, as well as a blue-plastic tarp to cook under. Sunday, we climb the mountain.
The hike begins in the morning. I don’t say anything, but I get tired fast. Dad knows. He takes the rucksack. Why can’t the other dads keep up with mine? Aren’t all Dads the same? We get to the summit. I ask Dad what the white rectangles are for. He says they mark a trail to the other mountains we can see. We take pictures and rest a while. Then troop climbs back down toward the campground.
Most Appalachian Trail hikers recall the first time they stepped on the trail. It’s different for everyone. For some hikers, it doesn’t happen until they take that first step on Springer Mountain. Others recall vacations to the Shenandoahs or maybe a picnic at a state park through which the trail is routed. Mine was as a twelve-year old, excited to be going with his Scout trip on a trip to New Hampshire.
It was not until ten years later that I learned what those white rectangles were. More importantly, I learned what they mean. Those white rectangles mean more than just markings for a long footpath. They mark a trail that can capture a person’s imagination, that make a twelve-year-old wonder, and dream and get excited about being on a mountain. That memory can last, and, when that twelve-year-old grows up, he still wonders and dreams and gets excited about being on a mountain.

A blurry, out of focus picture of me at 12 yrs old. It is the only picture I have from that day, so I'll take it. Notice the double white blazes by the side of the cairn.

[Driver8]

From my website:


1986 was the year I climbed Mt. Lafayette in New Hampshire. It was also my first time on the Appalachian Trail.

Great story, Mags. Thanks for sharing it. I got hooked a couple years ago b/c I love the challenge, love the scenery, the flora, the fauna, the rocks, the big views from high up. It's a nice habit to have.

[WIAPilot]

What an amazing story, Mags. Beautifully written!!

[rocketsocks]

My father asking"Hey,you want to go for a walk".But before that,when I was real little,we use to open the back gate,down the hill,across the West fork of the Trinity river,and on to a boy scout camp,near what was then Carswell AFB,I think this is why my favorite plane is the C-130,use to watch em all day and night.On the way back from the scout camp,I'd bring home some rocks(Marble I think),that to has become a area of interest for me.Funny how just answering a question,can bring ya back,Thanks Kathy....fond memories there.

[MuddyWaters]

It combined several things I like:

Gear
physical challenges
being in the mountains, seeing the world on foot, seeing things up close that most never will
doing things that 99% of population doesnt and cant hardly believe possible

[cabbagehead]

perhaps Lord of the Rings

[AjR]

For some reason, when I was in Afghanistan, where I walked everyday for a year, I suddenly thought backpacking when I got back to the states would be agreat idea. And it was. Needless to say, I've been hooked on mountain climbing, rock climbing, and backpacking since I got back. I think it's solitude away from all the everyday people and noises. While I was researching my trip in the Smokys at one point, I learned about the AT. After reading on it for countless hours, and doing a lot of research, I started telling everyone that I will thru-hike it one day. And one day I shall, just as soon as I am out of the military....

[scree]

When I was about 10 I went with my parents to Old Rag, not with the intention of hiking it, but rather just to have lunch at the upper parking lot and get some quiet time with the family. I remember wandering to check out the rocks at the trail head, then wanting to see where the trail went, so I went a bit further, marveling at how good it smelled and how quiet it was, and how big the boulders were. Then I went a little further, wanting to see more... wandering until I found a big, cracked relatively flat boulder to sit on and gaze up at the trees... which is about when my dad found me, and took me back to the car to leave. It was eight years after that before I got back up there to complete the hike, and I remember a feeling of awe when in my younger head, I'd seen so much of the mountain while in reality I'd barely seen anything. I never get tired of seeing what's around the next tree or rock, and never have enough time to go quite as far as I'd like to.

[heavyfoot]

Great story, Mags.

[sailsET]

I think it's solitude away from all the everyday people and noises.

Yep, that's definitely the thing, all right. Hailing from a seemingly endless metropolis of humanity, crammed together like an ant colony on steroids, to experience solitude and quiet is mind-blowing. A close friend introduced me to this thing called hiking, something that had never before entered my consciousness - walking just for walking's sake - because you can, and it's out there.

"So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
You're off the Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!" -- Dr. Seuss

[lemon b]

My father .....

[q-tip]

The Quiet......

[Whack-a-mole]

I started in the Boy Scouts when I was 11. Our troop was pretty active and went camping every month. Once we were going to this place that all the older guys said was real cool. It was called the Appalachian Trail. We went to Roan Mtn in Feb. Cold weather camping at it's best. We went up and stayed in a shelter near Grassy Ridge, and I was hooked. As I got older and into more leadership positions in the troop, me and my friends started pushing for more BP trips rather than just regular camping trips. I've been doing it off and on ever since. When I came home from the service in '88, I started working wit a troop to take them on some extended trips, as the leadership they had at the time only took them camping. I know a lot of bad stuff has happened with Boy Scouts, and you read a lot of it on here. Please understand there are a lot of good troops out there, practicing good LNT practices, and getting kids out in the outdoors. Sometimes due to work and stuff, I don't get out as often as I would like, but I try to do 2 week long trips a year, with a few weekend trips thrown in. For an interesting story, check out a post from a month ago titled "True trail magic."

[Kerosene]

As a kid in the back of my parents' car driving through northern Vermont I remember seeing these white blazes disappearing into the dark woods. Much later I learned that it was the Long Trail. I got into camping with the Boy Scouts, but we really didn't do any backpacking per se. As sophomores in high school, one of my scouting buddies convinced two of us to join him on the AT from DWG to Unionville in early April 1973. Amazingly, in retrospect, our parents let us go, and we spent the first night a few miles from the DWG parking lot sleeping on the ground in our huge camp sleeping bags wrapped in our oversized plastic groundcloths (which of course got the bags wet from condensation). It was very, very cold that first morning.

We made it to Unionville, wearing jeans and cotton socks of all things, and went on to cover other Mid-Atlantic sections over the coming two spring breaks. Of the 3 of us, I alone caught 'the bug' and covered another 300 miles or so in sections in the 70's, plus a SOBO thru-hike of the LT after college. I moved to the Midwest for my career, but have always been able to recall each and every day of each of my hikes, until I finally decided to set a life goal to finish the entire AT in '99. Only Maine to go now!

[wornoutboots]

(Not too pretty) but mine started out partying in College at the Red River Gorge, wasn't much into hiking or camping but it was an excuse to party, I remember 2 of us carrying a fullsized cooler filled with @ 3 cases of Schafer (sp) beer, the ones with the outdoors scenes on them @ 3 miles to an amazing remote spot. That somewhat planted the outdoor seed. Fast forward to one early 2008 April sunrise drive to & walk up to Clingmans dome & having it all to my son & I, I was captivated by the many lakes of clouds & islands of mountian tops. While taking it all in a great group of Thruhikers walked up & told me that they night hiked to get there for the sunrise & I was intrigued by their adventure. So right then I headed down the AT to see what it was all about, I took an hour or so hike Sobo & was captivated by the scenery & solitude. After that a month or so later I found myself hiking from the Grayson Highlands into Damascus for Trail Days to research gear & anything I could find out about long distant hiking. While getting situated into Lost Mountain shelter on this trip, "Pips" one of the thru's I saw on Clingmans, walked into the shelter sobo & we gave each other the "don't I know you" look, it was really cool seeing her & then following her journal how she was struggling at that part of her hike w/ feet issue & how just seeing my familiar face & good conversation gave her that little extra she needed in comfort to carry on (it's actually pretty interesting how the trail gives back!!). I've sectioned ever since & I just surpassed the 500 mile mark last year.

[Lion King]

the way I felt after a month of being out there.

The first two weeks were hell, even though I enjoyed it, but after that...man, I have never looked back.