Appalachian Trail Volunteers

Thursday, July 10, 2008
Appalachian Trail Volunteers
A Walk Up The Mountain

It started with an article in USA Today about doing volunteer work. I first looked at going to Cambodia to teach village children english. Although it sounded noble and interesting further investigation revealed that it would cost me about $2,000 to get there, an enrollment fee of $1,200 and a lot of shots. Thus I looked to start on a smaller scale. I found that the Appalachian Trail was looking for volunteers to work on the maintenance and refurbishment of the 2,250 mile trail from north Georgia to Maine. Not wanting to go on such a venture by myself I asked my “playmate” Ron Cohen if he would be interested. “Sure sign us up, it sounds like fun.”

Our trip north on July 2, 2008 included a planned stop at the Mayfield Dairy in Athens, TN for ice cream, with a promise to return on our way home. We then drove on to Sugar Grove, Virginia, about 15 miles off interstate 81 to find the Konnarock Trail Maintenance Crew. We joined 14 other volunteers that would break into two crews to spend a week on the trail doing maintenance work. The pre-trip literature explained that we would spend our first night in “Base Camp” then be bused out into the “field” where we would set up camp and work on the trail.

Base Camp reminded me of where you might go for a religious retreat, consisting of about twelve small cabins, which Konnarock called Pods, a meeting hall, a kitchen and two bathing and toilet facilities. The Pods were basic, one room with three beds, a light bulb, an electrical outlet, screen door, three screened cutouts and a tin roof. This was close to what I had expected but not quite up to what Ron had been accustomed to considering that within the past 90 days we had been on an ocean cruise, stayed at the Alhambra Palace in Granada Spain, and the Embassy Suites Battery Park, New York City, none costing less then $350.00 per night.

The other volunteers ranged in age from 18 to 65, with a median age of 37. Ron quickly established that he was the oldest volunteer. The first evening was spent in orientation, and getting to know each other. Camping equipment was available for all that needed it, with most checking out a tent. Needing a tent I went to the supply room and asked for a tent and two water bottles. “Let’s share a tent.” Ron suggested. “No, everyone is getting single tents.” “I have a three man tent,” the manager offered. Knowing that Ron didn’t have a clue as to how to put up a tent, but not realizing that everyone in camp suspected Ron and I were gay, having removed our wedding rings on the trip down so as to not damage them or our hands while working in the dirt, I agreed.

Heidi, a 65 year old high school German teacher best typified a veteran AT volunteer. She came to the U.S. in 1966 got a college degree at 45 and became Texas’s best German teacher. She had done this type of work over eleven times all over the country. The first morning I walked into the pavilion at 6:00 AM to find Heidi trying to get a knot out of Ron’s pant draw string with a fork. “Not to worry Kerry, Heidi is forking me.”

The trail head was five hours from Base Camp near Fontana Dam in North Carolina. The ride gave us an opportunity to get to know our fellow crew members. Our crew was made up of four women and four men, from Florida, Michigan, Washington D.C., Texas, Michigan, Alabama and the U.K. Christine, 29 years old, our trail leader proved to know her stuff, be an excellent manager, and an outdoorsman. Something I have no desire to become; I have to bathe… everyday. She was assisted by Dannon a 30 year old ex-marine who would prove he could out work us all.

It was normal for the crew to camp at the trail head near or adjacent to the Appalachian Trail, but that would not be possible this week. Instead we were to stay at a State Park camp ground. This provided both positive aspects and negative aspects. First we would not be experiencing the solitude and tranquility of camping out in the woods; on the other hand we did have access to toilets and showers. I knew that Ron and I would miss the opportunity of conducting our morning activities in the depths of the forest into a cat hole and bathing with sterile wipes, but we agreed that we could live with it and still call the experience an adventure.

It puzzled me that David came all the way from England to work on the AT, and he was going to do it for three weeks then spend one week seeing another part of the U. S. “David I can see that you marvel at the country side.” … “Yes, it beautiful, it’s so different from England.”… “It could have been all yours David if your ancestors had not screwed up.” Ron added. … “Right, if the French had stayed out of it, it would have been ours.” …“You could have had that place right there, Duke David’s Place.” David’s a city planner for a small town outside of London; he’s been coming to the U.S. to work on the AT for three years now. “It’s a cheap vacation and I get to see the U.S. as well.”

We pull into the state park camp site and pitched our tents. Fifty feet behind Ron and my tent Bubba and Bertha, and two other couples, had squatted for the 4th. of July weekend. Not only do we get free transportation, free food, a free walk in the woods but we also get evening entertainment that lasts to 3:00 AM every night. The entertainment includes both male and female redneck vulgarity, but an inside look at how rednecks live including how long you are detained by the police for a DUI after “blowing 16.” The $500 worth of fireworks that they brought and a barking dog served as a break in the nonstop profanity. None-the-less Ron and I were up at 5:30 to make coffee for the crew and we hit the road for the trail at 8:00 AM.

The trail started at a forest access road just above Fontana Lake, North Carolina. Our work site was 2.7 miles in front and 2500 feet above us. Besides getting ourselves up the mountain we had to carry our tools up; sledgehammers, pick-o-matics, loppers, a chainsaw and gas, and pulaskies. Each crew member carried an extra 20 pounds of equipment. The walk in the wood took two hours including numerous stops to catch your breath and ask your body, “Why the hell am I doing this?” The response was always the same, “This is an adventure, and you are creating a memory.” I also felt that if Tracy could do it I could do it, she was no more then five feet tall and maybe she weighed 100 pounds. “She’s carrying 20% of her weight in tools.” I would later learn that she’s a marathon runner but preferred races in the 50 mile range.

The work was interesting and dirty. The trail had eroded over the years so we were to rehab it. This involved several steps. First Christine or Jim Lowe had to fell a tree, usually anywhere from 16 to 24 inches in diameter. They would cut them in lengths of 7 to 16 feet. We would then drag the logs out of the woods onto the trail; here we would strip them of their bark with the sledges of the pulaskies. We then carried the stripped log down the trail to where another crew member had dug out a perpendicular trench to hold the log forming a step which would reestablish the trail structure. The larger logs were used to create water bars; structures similar to the steps but placed at an angle so as to divert any running water off the trail. I made the mistake of suggesting to Leah that it was a man’s job to carry the logs down the trail, I soon learned that Leah could hoist any log that I could hoist. Me having acknowledged, we shared a mutual respect. In all I recall that we installed 24 steps and 8 water bars over our three days of work on the trail.

The second day was much like the first day except we didn’t have to carry the tools up, having left them hidden off the trail over night. We walked up the mountain in a down pour, sure that the days work would be canceled for safety reasons, but shortly after we reached the top the rain stopped and with the sun came more workers. A hiking club out of Knoxville, responsible for this section of the Appalachian Trail, came up the mountain to help us. There were 10 in all, eight men and two women. Eleanor, a NC senior, blond hair, red bandanna, blue coveralls, and blue eyes brought sunshine to Preston’s day. This could have been Preston’s lucky day.

The club hosted a Bar-B-Q dinner after the work day with beans, slaw, watermelon and cantaloupe. It was an appreciated treat. As we walked to the van Preston and David carried a grey plastic basket containing a watermelon and two cantaloupes. I approached them to help them with the van door and David in his English way gave me an odd look. “What?” “I was going to make a joke about nice melons but it wouldn’t be appropriate for a man.” David said with a disappointed grin. “Well Elizabeth has some nice melons,” I added.

We arrived in camp forty minutes later and I was organizing my gear at my tent readying for the night. “Kerry, thank you for the compliment on my melons,” Elizabeth hollered my way.

I sought out David, “What did you say to Elizabeth?” “I told her that Kerry said she had nice melons.” “David!”

Just before dinner, a Sherriff car pulled up to our kitchen site, followed by a Park Ranger, and a plain clothed detective. They had a conversation with Christine, and then walked past Ron and my tent to have a meeting with Bubba and Bertha and the two other couples. They left after issuing three tickets for discharging fireworks in a state park, $100 each. “Ron, our tent just might burn tonight, put anything you value in the back of the van.”

Our tent didn’t burn but we did learn that the group had also received a $400 ticket for misuse of their Wave Runners on the lake earlier in the day. “I think the police have it in for us.” Bubba declared.

We loaded the van in the morning, and there was that grey plastic basket in the back of the van. I looked into it saw it was empty and declared, “Wow I thought you were going to ask us to carry those melons up the mountain today.” A voice came from the inside of the van. “I carry them up the mountain every day.”

Our time up had dropped to an hour and a half and our time down was around an hour, so we were able to put in a good five hour of work on the trail each day. I actually enjoyed the work, seeing what we accomplished, and working with good people as a team. I felt the walk up and down the mountain was good for me, and offered a sizable challenge at this point in my life; but I hated sleeping on the ground.

The best part of the Konnarock Adventure was the people and the relationships. In five days Ron and I laughed, shared life stories, saw lives change, and made new friends who we most likely will never see again.
David will spend two more weeks working the trail then a week seeing another part of the U.S. before heading back to the U.K.

Tracy headed back to Michigan and has promised to join Ron and I when we run the Indy 500 Half Marathon next May.

Leah signed on to do another week and will then go back to Wisconsin to teach kindergarten and help maintain the Ice Age Trail.

Preston was off to visit his parents in Boone before returning to D.C. and his job at IBM. He also is considering doing a through hike of the Appalachian Trail next year.

Heidi signed on for another week and will most likely find another adventure to pursue. Hopefully it won’t involve a truck driver.

Elizabeth went back to Tallahassee, her three children, Jeffery and her high school chemistry class. She is certain to find another project next year to fulfill her quest for more knowledge.

Christine will move on to the Smokey Mountain Trail for a full time position with benefits as she continues her carrier and passion for the outdoors.

Dannon will no doubt rise up the ranks of the Konnarock organization with his enthusiasm and commitment. I hope he gives up smoking.




Ron and I have checked Trail Maintenance off our Bucket List and will find another adventure next year to satisfy our quest for eternal youth. I came home, after stopping for ice cream in Athens, with a memory that I will keep for the rest of my life.