My AT hike turns 25!

Happy New Year!

The dawn of 2015 over Lake Saint Clair
in my home town of Grosse Pointe, Michigan.
More about this fantastic image and its creator, Mark Graf at grafphoto.com,
here at SuzanneStroh.com. (c) Mark Graf. Used by permission.

2015 will mark the 25th anniversary of my year on the Appalachian Trail.

On my birthday in late April of 1991, my dog Ben and I ate our last home-cooked breakfast, packed our gear at Locust Hill Farm in Leesburg, hitched a ride to Harper's Ferry from Burdette and Suzie Wright, checked in at the Appalachian Trail Conference HQ and set out heading south from the midpoint of the AT. The goal: to walk all 2,184 miles of the white blazed footpath in one season.

It had been a cold winter with big storms, and the ATC volunteers told me that the word from the near-starved northbound hikers was that lots of people had dropped out since taking their first steps on the AT at Springer Mountain, Georgia.

My first hump up the hill was hell in an overweighted pack, and all I remember about those first few days was a hundred blowdowns that it took hours to get under, over and around. The going was slow from the start. Fifteen miles and 6,000 feet of climbing was a big day for me back then under those 50 lb. pack weights. I don't think I met anyone in my first two weeks on the trail, similar to the tale told by The Kitchen Sink Couple. It rained 25 days in a row for the next 500 miles. Virginia was a slog. Even with Ben for company--always hilarious--I had trouble getting up and getting motivated in the morning. But I stuck to it.

Along the way, I met and read logbook entries of northbounders whom I keep track of and caught up with, later, at the base of their journey's end atop Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park, Maine.

I interviewed them for the film I was making, climbed Katahdin with them, then kept walking south.

Suzanne and trail dog Ben at Trail Days 1991.
Your hair grows two shades darker
under the big green canopy for months at a time.

By Thanksgiving, Ben and I had accomplished all but a few hundred miles of the AT. I got off the trail in Vermont, took a break, and completed the journey (re-covering much of the territory) in 1992.

Imagine my surprise on Christmas day when one of my thru-hiking pals, trail name weathercarrot, posted the 1992 documentary I made of that trek here on YouTube.

Most of the articulate, insightful people you meet and see in this video--like photographer Dave Fleischman and weathercarrot, whose stunning AT and PCT photography projects include this history of ALDHA, the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association and "yearbook" videos for thru-hikers that span every section of the Pacific Crest Trail--have since gone on to bigger and better long-distance hikes; long term commitments to selfless service as trail maintainers; and satisfying artistic careers as nature photographers. It is with real humility that I share their work and their stories with you now, because the amateurish quality of my own work (all still images!) will definitely strike you as low-tech.

Back in 1991, our heavy analog camera equipment probably took up two or three liters of space in our packs! And it weighted a ton. Our music players played cassette tapes. Short of a National Geographic production, there was no way to bring a film crew along on your thru hike. Still photography, sketches, words on paper, and the occasional voice recordings made when a sound recordist could meet us in a shelter near a trailhead...these things were all we had to make artistic sense of our adventures.

Thanks, weathercarrot, for the most thoughtful Christmas present ever. Without your patience and persistence, people would not be able to share our story.

Trail Days 1992 with Suzanne selling copies of Bill Irwin's "Blind Courage"
and STI tapes from her car in Damascus, VA. Photo: weathercarrot.

Sometime after Trail Days in 1992, my distributor's barn caught fire in Vermont, destroying every VHS copy I didn't have on hand. I never bothered to transfer the 3/4 inch master tape to DVD, because by then, the music rights had long run out under the terms of the very generous permissions I had been granted to produce the project as a not-for-profit work of art.

Trail Days 1992. Photo: weathercarrot.

A few years ago, I was contacted by some folks who wanted a copy for a hikers hostel in Pennsylvania. It was a flattering request, and today I am even more flattered to see that STICKING TO IT still seems to warm a few wild hearts.

I hope to have more for you from the AT class of '91 in the months to come. What did I read? you wonder. Possession by A.S. Byatt, word by gorgeous addictive word, using yesterday's devoured pages for today's loo paper as I went along. What did Ben eat? Mostly my supper, supplemented by the doggy GU of the day, liver powder in his water bowl, courtesy of an eccentric Virginia dogsledder (???) who ran a place called The Sled Dog Store, as I recall, which supplied us out of Roanoke. On the seven months that Ben and I slept together that year, he clearly became much more like a person (very courteously waiting before he ate the remains of my supper) and I think I became a bit more like a dog. Which I've never regretted for a moment. Amore!

I wish you a happy new year, with white blazes as far as you can see. Follow your bliss.

Trail Days 1991. Photo: weathercarrrot.

Shoulder Season

Chances are, you’re between trips. Time to tidy up your gear loft, log your equipment, send stuff out for repairs and restock.

I’ve gotten pretty disciplined about doing this after every trip. But stuff still falls through the cracks, so I make a point of making a thorough inventory twice a year.

This is the time to sweat the small stuff in your life of adventure. You don't want to go out again looking like this.

So here’s my list.



Health, Safety and Security


Quick-release key rings. Good ones. On every pack you use. You also want them in your briefcase or courier bag, and even in your travel luggage.

Do: Make sure they’re still there, and make sure the corresponding mechanism is still attached to all your vehicle keys.

Don’t: Use plastic, manufacturer’s-issue clips. They're lame.


PLB (personal locator beacon or SPOT). An electronic GPS-like device tied to a subscription service. 

Don’t: Head out again with outdated contact or profile information.

Do: Replace the battery (or at least buy a replacement battery and tape it to the device). Renew the membership. And update your profiles and contact numbers.


Electronic compass or chronometer/avalanche beacons.

Do: Replace the battery. For total piece of mind, calendar battery replacement every 3 months. 

Passport. 

Don’t: Put it away before checking the expiration date. You should not be issued an overseas air ticket or a visa on your next trip if your passport expires within six months. And if that safeguard fails, you will be denied entry at the foreign border.

Do: Renew your passport. Get a passport card, too.


Med kit.

Don’t: Head out again with expired prescription medications, particularly Epi and antibiotics. And don’t throw sharps in the trash.

Do: Thoroughly restock your med kit using a detailed checklist. It’s easy to miss stuff without one. Click here for my checklist. This is also a good time to adjust the contents to the needs of the new folks you’re now traveling with. Date your new checklist and keep it in the cupboard or cabinet with your first aid supplies.

Bin there.

Drybags and watertight containers (and air mattresses, while you’re at it).

Don’t: Assume that fabrics with laminated seals have survived air travel or descent from high altitude without blowing a seam. Happens a lot.

Do: Check for leaks. Submerge air-filled drysacks in a sink or tub full of water. Look for bubbles coming out of the pinhole leaks often caused by pine needles and sharp pebbles. 


Repair kit and toolkit. 

Do: Inspect and restock. Clean, sharpen and oil or grease all picks and knives for storage.


Lighting.

Do: Stash an ultralight Petzl E-lite (or similar) in every pack. Tape a replacement battery to the headlamp or lantern.


Ten essentials.

Do: Restock fire starter, individually wrapped matches (since you can’t fly with a lighter any more, you should ALWAYS carry matches as backup), whistle, bug repellent sunscreen, bivy sack, pepper spray, etc. Clean and disinfect all water containers, especially bladders.

Hardware 

Ropes.

Don’t: Forget to retire ropes that are done.

Do: Inspect, wash and dry your dirty ropes. Log falls. Confirm that there is no possible way any clean ropes in storage have been exposed to chemicals that can weaken them, compromising their safety. Always hang all ropes in a mountaineer’s coil. No exceptions.


Rack. 

Don’t: Forget to retire fallen gear or bad runners. Or to return other people’s gear. In person. Over a beer.

Do: Inspect and re-rack your gear, log every piece against a detailed checklist. Replace lost gear, upgrade if needed, and tape every piece for identification.

Junk it

Axes, tools and crampons.

Don’t: Let them rust.

Do: Inspect the crampons. Inspect the pick and the shaft on all tools, including the bolts if necessary. Oil the steel. Tape the hex tool to the climbing tool, or place it in your tool kit. Store in a cool, dry place.


Goggles and masks. 

Don’t: Forget to get new lenses if your prescription has changed. Shoulder season is the time for Lasix if you’re ready. 

Do: Inspect them for seal leaks and loose or weak straps. Replace scratched lenses.

Bad harness. Bad.

Harnesses.

Don’t: Forget to retire dodgy harnesses.

Do: Heed maker’s tag warnings. Inspect and clean all harnesses before storage. 






Other hard goods.

From canoes and kayaks to parapentes and balloons; from boards to regulators and technical packs; from backpacks to skis, poles and skins, from fishing rods and reels to firearms, flares and spearguns, all your hard goods need to be in working order.

Do: Check everything out carefully and thoroughly. Test all attachment points, buckles, fasteners, straps, welts, laminations, igniters, electrical systems, bolts and action. Clean all zippers and protect with silicon spray. Anything with a trigger, regulator or valves should go in for a professional check once a year. Make a log for this scheduled maintenance. Renew all permits. Disengage all firing or ignition systems and store fuel or ammo a safe distance from stoves or weapons.

Soft goods 

Don’t: Store wet or dirty tents, stoves, cookware, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, boots, helmets, gloves or clothes. Don’t ever store them under compression or airtight stuff sacks. Cotton stuff bags for down items are OK. Never store soft goods near food or chemicals, like bug spray, sunscreen or gas cylinders.

What a display! These are
ski skins, not neckties 

Do: Clean everything, laundering according to makers’ tags, and let it air-dry before storage. Check for delams, rips and tears, particularly baffle rips in sleeping bags; make repairs as needed. I’ve listed more resources for you here. Hang soft goods if at all possible. Make sure that all shelved items are safe from rodents and insects. Cedar closets and lavender sachets work well to ward off moths. Store items loosely, so air can circulate.

I've scoured Pinterest for great shots of World of Interiors-standard gear lofts. Looks like I'll have to start a board myself; maybe it will turn into a charity calendar! Send me your pics. In the meantime, your local guide service or climbing shop can be your inspiration for designing your gear loft. Here are my own tips. For soft goods, like jackets and sleeping bags, Set up a system for matching and storing attachments, like hoods, powder skirts, stuff sacks, gear lofts, cutlery, etc. I like to store mine in pockets. Another good way is in dedicated drawers.


Oh, and welcome home. Give that dog a big ole hug. Cuddle up to the one who loves you. And don’t blame me if she’s already nagging you to clean the gutters. As a great adventurer once said, "We go away so we can come back...."

Ahh... four walls.