Category: Thru-Hiker

No Name Peak

The Long Trail runs the length of Vermont, 272 miles, and, as many Vermonters know, it has its own presidential range.  It’s less lofty than the more famous one over in New Hampshire, but four peaks between Breadloaf Mountain and Lincoln Gap bear the names Mount Wilson, Mount Roosevelt, Mount Cleveland and Mount Grant.

And right in the middle, between Roosevelt and Cleveland, according to the Long Trail Guide, is a lesser summit, a summit that had no name.

Rob Waters, a retired newspaperman who used to be my editor at The News & Observer, wrote this story and, just this one time, I got to edit him.

+++

In the summer of 1970, Rob worked on a crew to improve the Long Trail, in the Green Mountain National Forest in Vermont.  That four-man crew, three college students and a Navy veteran, went out on Monday mornings and returned late on Fridays, staying in trail shelters or camping during the week to be near their work.

Pat Stith (L) and Rob Waters on the A.T.
Pat Stith (L) and Rob Waters on the A.T.

The week they worked north of Breadloaf, they carried a bag of, Rob didn’t remember exactly, it might have been chocolate bars, that contained a hand puppet.  The puppet, basically a plastic bag printed with a face and with hands sticking out, was named “Little Hans.” It said so right there on the package.

Little Hans
Little Hans

Rob said he and his friends played with Little Hans, waving him around and making dumb jokes.

As he and the others trekked between their camp and their work sites they repeatedly crossed the summit with no name.  As the week progressed, a consensus emerged that the hump between Presidents Cleveland and Roosevelt was worthy so, one evening, Ray Secor, the Navy veteran, carved a small sign that said “Little Hans Peak.” Next day, the crew attached the sign to a tree on the summit.

Rob is a lifelong hiker – in recent years I’ve hiked with him several times on the A.T. — but he hadn’t been back to Vermont much and had never revisited that section of the Long Trail.  So imagine his surprise as he leafed through the September 2016 issue of “Backpacker Magazine” and saw a reference to that peak.  The article recommend a peak-bagging walk in the Green Mountains from Cooley Glen Shelter to Mount Wilson and back. That hike, the article said, would take you across the summits of Cleveland and Roosevelt and, in between, a place called “Little Hans Peak.”

The name had stuck.

NOTE:  See for yourself. Google “Little Hans Peak,” go to Peakbagger.com and there it will be: Little Hans Peak, Vermont, elevation 3,348 feet. Peakbagger.Com calls it an “unofficially named peak.”

Coming Friday: The Real Navy

 

Advice to A.T. Thru-Hikers, Class of 2017

You’re getting ready now to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail and I’d like a word with you, especially you older men and women.  [I turned 73 on my hike.]   I left Springer Mountain, GA, on Feb. 15, 2015, in 8 degree weather, and climbed Mt. Katahdin in Maine on July 14, 149 days later, and I learned a few things I think could help you.

Physical conditioning

Some people do nothing to get in shape before embarking on a 2,200-mile hike over countless mountains in all sorts of weather.  They plan to start slow, they say, and get in shape on the trail.

Lucky at Springer Mountain, GA, Feb. 15, 2016
Lucky at Springer Mountain, GA, Feb. 15, 2015. It was 8 degrees.

That’s a mistake.  I think the lack of physical conditioning is a big reason why a fourth of the NoBos [north bound hikers] quit before they get to North Carolina, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy.

I did some things wrong before I left on my hike: I didn’t have some of the equipment I needed; the food I started with left a lot to be desired; I had almost no respect for bad weather.  But I did get in shape before I left – I lifted weights and hiked 1,000.7 miles around my neighborhood carrying a pack.

That’s overdoing it just a bit, hiking 1,000 miles, but I urge you: Get in shape.   Those first few weeks will be a lot more tolerable and, more important, you will reduce the chance of injury.

Guarding Against The Unthinkable: Failure

Three fourths of the people who start out on a thru-hike don’t finish, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, and there are three things that could stop you.  One you can’t do anything about; one you can mitigate; and one you can eliminate.

  • The first, a crisis at home. That will either happen or it won’t.  You can’t do much about that.
  • The second is physical, injury or illness.  You can reduce the possibility that either one will end your hike by getting in shape and by starting as early as is reasonable in your circumstance.  If you can start early enough to finish by, say, mid-August you could take off two months to nurse an injury or illness and still complete your hike.
  • Lucky at Mt. Katahdin in Maine, July 14, 2015
    Lucky at Mt. Katahdin in Maine, July 14, 2015

    The third is mental. Some people, when the going gets tough, give up. It’s as if they didn’t know they were going to be wet, cold, tired, hungry, and hurting, that they were going to be some of those things just about all of the time and all of those things some of the time.  That’s a given.   So make up your mind, right now, before you get on the trail: No matter what, you’re going to finish.  Do that and you’re way ahead of the game.

Equipment

I never saw any two thru-hikers who were carrying identical equipment.  Think about that.  Lots of different stuff works. In selecting equipment just try to figure out what’s best for you, considering everything, including price.

There are only two equipment rules I advise you to remember:

One, the three most important things about back packing are pack weight, pack weight, and pack weight.  And the corollary: everything weighs something.

Two, if you need it and don’t have it you don’t need it.

Attitude

I was never in danger of giving up, never considered it for a moment because I had made up my mind.  However, for a month or more I didn’t have as much fun as I could have had –should have had – because I had a bad attitude.

The A.T., not always a stroll in the park
The A.T., not always a stroll in the park

I was resentful for a while.  I had “signed up” for a hike and, believe you me, in the North, a good part of the time you’re not going to be hiking, at least not by my definition.  You’re going to be rock hopping and rock climbing for miles on end.

So my advice to you is, relax.  It is what it is, and there’s no helping it. When I finally accepted that, and fixed my attitude, I started having fun again.

Let It Happen

I’m not opposed to planning ahead.  If I were you I’d read the guide book you’ve chosen, I’d even study it a little.  But you need to be flexible when you get out there, need be willing to change your plans.

For me, the two best parts about the hike were the people I met –other hikers and trail angels– and the fact that I could never be sure how the day was going to end. And it often ended better than I had planned, better, even, than I had hoped.

And A Final Note

It wouldn’t hurt you to start out, from Day One, being grateful.  You are embarking on what may be the best time of your life, not because the rest of your life will be so bad but because this time of your life will be so good.

Lucky, AKA Pat Stith

Coming Friday: “Were They Talking About Me?”