The Appalacian Trail

Wow, sitting here thinking about it now, I find it difficult to believe that it's completed. Since I was in my early 20's the trail has been haunting me, at every opportunity pulling me east to the Smokey Mountains just to walk a few miles on the AT. Ever since I read, "A Walk Across America" back in the 70's about Peter Jenkins taking that long walk and finding himself and his country, I knew I had to do it someday. I knew I had to thru hike the trail. I also knew I had to go northbound. I had to start close to home at Springer Mountain Georgia, the southern terminus and hike northbound into country that seemed so far away both geographically and culturally. Into New England, where our country was born and onto the remoteness that still is the state of Maine. This was the year, the stars lined up and with a clear concience I began to walk north on Feb. 26th and, in starting that walk i took on the trailname Woodstock and I was never refered to by any other name throughout my journey. I became simply, Woodstock, a hiker. What happened in the next 5 months was beautiful in every way. I walked to find purpose and i found it. I walked to find adventure and it was certainly there. I walked to explore my physical and emotional limits and they were certainly streched on many, many occasions. But mostly I just walked and kept my eyes, ears, heart and soul wide open and by doing that, i discovered something. I found out that there alot of people in this country willing to go out of there way to help a complete stranger. I found out that I really DO NOT need all the clutter in my life. Things really got boiled down to the fine things. It boiled down to what I really need to make me content. Some simple foods, clean water, a dry place to sleep. That's really all I needed. But, ah, the other stuff, well, the sunrises and sunsets, yes. Being the first footsteps on the trail in the morning following a beautiful snowfall, watching a first class lightening and thunder show from the security of your shelter in Pensylvania, well all those things just made me stop and consider why on earth did I get so lucky. When I summited Mt. Katahdin, the northern terminus on Aug 11, I was instantly inducted into a family of travelers who's company I will cherish forever. Afamily of people who have trodden the same path, drank from the same streams, wrote in the same shelter journals, toiled up and down the same mountains and took in all the beauty the AT is so willing to share. I became and forever will be an Appalacian Trail thru hiker. Peace to all....Woodstock

The year is 2007

I guess everybody has a blog now so i'm gonna jump right in too. Why am i blogging you ask? I don't know but it feels like the right thing to do at the time. To get started i want to tell you that I am an ultra-runner, part time adventure junkie and like my good friend in Lyme, NH has once told me, " Boy, you have the traveling bone." I really don't like sitting still as when i'm sitting still most of the time i find myself in Memfrica TN, (as in africa hot in the summer), a place that can best be described as a bunch of people who are here but would really rather be somewhere else. Yea, we have a pretty good art scene here, the music scene is somewhat renowned, and of course we are the bar-b-que capitol of the world and home of Elvis, The King, Presley. So why am i complaing you say? Because, somehow by some cosmic twist of fate i was switched at birth with another kid who evidently looked like me back in 1955 in Stuttgart, AR, and my real family moved to Telluride, CO and my not real family moved to here, to Memphis. So, I've always known deep in my subcontious pea brain that i was meant to be and am most happy in the wonderful mountains of the American west. Destin, FL just never cut it for me.