2,000 miles

By KARIN CARMER

April 11, 2006 06:03 pm

—
ELWOOD — Each year, about 2,500 people start out to hike the 2,000-mile Appalachian Trail. Only about 250 people complete it.
“I think I wanted to prove to myself that I do something entirely on my own,” said Elwood resident LeAnn Linsmeyer, 50, about her hike along the entire trail in 2002.
The Appalachian Trail, which stretches along the ridge of the mountain range from Georgia to Maine, had called to her for many years. Well marked and mapped, it is supplied with campsites, shelters and water sites for through hikers.
The trail first interested LeAnn because her father had longed to hike it. She planned the trek for several years and began preparing physically six months ahead by hiking daily around Elwood wearing hiking boots and a full backpack. She and her husband Greg, who always supported her goal, hiked the hills of southern Indiana on weekends.
On March 25, 2002, she parted from Greg at the trailhead at Springer Mountain, Ga. Greg would mail supplies so she could pick them up along the way and planned to visit her once a month. Her backpack contained dried foods, clothing, a tent, a one-burner stove, a trail map and a journal and camera to document her journey.
Like most through hikers, LeAnn planned to stay in a town every seventh day, where she could shower, do laundry and pick up mail. She averaged 5,000 to 6,000 calories a day on the trip, but since they can’t carry that much food, hikers hit the pizza buffets on their days off the trail.
LeAnn was happy to connect with some other hikers immediately. “I was as prepared as I could be, but I was new to backpacking,” she says. Hikers walk together for a while, then lose contact when one stops off or pushes ahead, then may meet by chance further up the trail.
LeAnn enjoyed the challenge and the companionship of the trail, but met some physical shocks immediately. First, it was the constant up and down incline of the trail.
She was happy to make six to eight miles a day at first, but by the end of her trip was comfortable hiking 10 to 15 miles a day.
On day two, rain poured all day. Soaked through, she trudged on, knowing that hikers who stop for rain don’t make it to the next shelter or supply store at the right time. Through hikers must make it to the trail’s end on Mount Katahdin in Maine before Oct. 15, when it closes for the winter.
A third problem was the weight of her backpack. Instead of the planned 35 pounds, her pack weighed 50 pounds at the ranger station in Georgia. She sent home a few items, but didn’t reduce the load fully until she reached a camp store on day four. The outfitter advised her as she removed things, exchanged metal tools for plastic and packed food to send ahead to the next mail drop.
That day, she bought the lightweight yellow clogs she wore around camp with a yellow shirt, which earned her the trail name of “Tweety.”
LeAnn hiked alone through most of Virginia, where serious homesickness hit for the first time, a plight so common that hikers call it “The Virginia Blues.” Her daughter Cara and husband Chris Swinefurth had driven out to spend a night with her.
On June 10, in the middle of a 95-degree day, Cara dropped her off at the trail. “I was hot, I was worried about finding my next water source, and I wanted to visit longer.”
She began sobbing as she hiked, almost turning back twice. Then she encountered trail magic, a tradition on the trail where good Samaritans drive to where the trail crosses a road, and offer free water, soft drinks and fresh fruit to hikers. This couple had set up a camp kitchen and served her bacon, eggs and everything else you could find on a breakfast buffet.
After some conversation and a little weeping, LeAnn continued hiking. “Somebody watched over me. Every time I got low, something would happen. I would meet another hiker or see a patch of flowers, something to distract me from my pain.” Mail from family and friends helped. She was amazed at the dozens of encouraging notes she received from Elwood residents she hadn’t met.
Severe leg pain in her right shin almost defeated LeAnn at the end of June. X-rays showed no sign of a stress fracture, so after a couple of days’ rest, she continued. “I told myself I could quit, and it wouldn’t be my fault,” she says with a smile, “but then I realized I didn’t want to quit. I just wanted it to be easier to hike and easier to be away from my family.” She decided to pace herself, and the pain never returned.
FINAL DESTINATION
LeAnn reached the halfway point alone on July 11, in Pennsylvania, and reconnected with two women she had hiked with in Georgia, “Trapper Lee” and “Grayson.” They continued together for three weeks.
When LeAnn reached the base of Mount Katahdin in Maine in October, her daughter Cara had flown out to surprise her and her husband and son Greg Jr. were waiting to hike the last stretch with her, as planned.
Her former hiking buddies “Syracuse Pete,” “Big Red” and “Jagged” arrived at the same time, so on Oct. 6, the six hiked 10 miles, the last part over rugged piled rocks above the tree line, to the peak of Mount Katahdin.
Since her trek, LeAnn has met up with some hiking buddies and done one-week hikes on the trail. “I’d do the whole trail again tomorrow,” she said. Each April since 2002, she and Greg observe their anniversary by traveling to the trail crossing near Gatlinburg to offer trail magic refreshments to hikers.
There are two other hiking trails that make up the through hikers’ Triple Crown.
One is the Pacific Crest Trail, 2,600 miles along the Sierra Nevadas from California to Canada, and the other is the Continental Divide Trail, which winds 3,100 miles through the Rockies. LeAnn is looking into them, but neither calls to her like the Appalachian Trail.
One thing LeAnn says she learned along the trail: “You might believe you’re alone, but you really aren’t.”
Since her trip, LeAnn has shared her experiences with many groups in the area. To contact her, call 552-2304. As she likes to say, “The next best thing to hiking the Appalachian Trail is talking about it!”

Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.