Older Hikers Journals

imported
#1

I will be 61 when I hike the AT in 2011 and would like to read some journals of older hikers (especially women) who have thru-hiked it in the past.

Nana

#2

Try Jan Liteshoe’s 2003 journal. It’s still one of the best journals.

JohnM

#3

Thanks JohnM. I have actually read her journal twice now and totally agree that it is one of the best that I have read.

Nana

#4

Check out Catchup’s '07 journal. There were a good bunch of strong thru-hikers who I suppose were in their 60’s, when I hiked in 2007. I was 47. Have a great hike!

blue yonder

#5

JohnM wrote on the second post to this thread above;

“Good Older Hiker Journal
Try Jan Liteshoe’s 2003 journal. It’s still one of the best journals.”

I think JohnM should hire a body guard because Liteshoe is not going to be happy!! :smiley:

That’s one of the best things I’ve ever seen written about that “older hiker” named Liteshoe. This smile just won’t leave my face. Oh what a wonderful day!!:happy

Stumpknocker

#6

My wife and I attempted a thru hike this year 2009 but had to stop at 1520 miles. We wrote a journal entry every day from both of our perspectives. She was 59 and I was 60 as we hiked, she would have turned 60 on the trail. Check out Old Goat and Check Six.

Old Goat

#7

I hked a great deal with that old hiker Liteshoe in 2003. Most of us started calling her Grannie Liteshoe by the time we got to Maine. She was a very good hiker but several times she forgot where she had put her teeth in the shelters. It was very aggravating taking a zero day with her as she was alway dying her gray hair at the motel. Instead of hiking poles she used one of those walkers with wheels.

Chief

#8

This is one of the more ammusing threads I’ve seen on TJ in a while. Poor ole Liteshoe!

Ellie

#9

I hiked in '05, starting out at the age of 60 as a male (which I also was at the end). I wouldn’t recommend my journal because it’s not for polite company, so read at your peril.

I remember meeting Stumpknocker on the trail in Maine, probably around early October. I recall his lengthy monologue about his legendary hiking life (so he said), thankfully ending with his query of “you must have heard of me?” I looked him straight in the eye and replied, "sorry old timer, you must have been before my time:oh

Nimblefoot

#10

A walker with wheels? Wow!! I thought wheeled vehicles weren’t allowed on the trail maybe they make exceptions for legends of the trail not that I know any personally, you just hear things sometimes out in the woods.:slight_smile:

4Bears

#11

Well, I guess mine would qualify. I was 61 in '06 when I did the AT, 63 in '08 when I did the PCT, and I’ll be 65 in '10 when I do the CDT. After a couple of months on the trail hanging out with the 20-somethings and having gotten my trail legs, I felt really great physically—like I was 30 again. That is until I looked in the mirror!

Handlebar

#12

Try Marta’s '06 sobo journal (may be under Five Leaf Clover). She’s a lot younger than me, but still a couple of years out of high school.

Mango

#13

Yeah…Nimblefoot. I remember that meeting!! I remember you saying; “I’m so lucky at my age to make it so far injury free…knock on wood”. Then you got a really startled look on your face and you said; “Who’s there?” :wink:

I helped you to your feet, then I continued walking in the right direction…south. Ha!! :slight_smile:

Hey Liteshoe…I’m still smiling about what JohnM said about you.

Oh what a wonderful day!! :smiley:

Stumpknocker

#14

I’m not sure I qualify as an “Old Hiker Expert” compared to some of the Trail Legends quoted above. However, I started thru hikes at age 65 and again at age 69. didn’t finish either time, due to a number of circumstances. I am 25 years old when I hike the Trail. Some suggestions:

  1. Don’t try to keep up with the youngsters. You’ll end up injured. Besides its more fun to hike with old guys, like some of the legends above.
  2. Pay attention to calcium intake. I understand the bones get brittle as you age. Unfortunately, I can personally attest to that.
  3. You are older and more mature and experienced in life. You will enjoy and savor the experience more than the youngsters.
  4. Take it easy and don’t push the mileage in the early days of your hike. You will get your trail legs.
  5. To expound upon Handlebar’s comment, don’t look in mirrors.
  6. HYOH

A great TJ by an older hiker is Medicare Pastor. She has AT and PCT journals for the past few years.

swamp fox

#15

Alright… while the old joints are creakier than in 2003, this thread reminds me of the old pots calling the youngest kettle black.
javascript:smile(’:)’)

Nimblefoot, truly, your story does not surprise. Walking with these old guys in 2003 was an constant adventure in itself.
I remember one morning I was trailing Chief to be there was someone to administer CPR should he keel over on the rocks after Madison Hut. The gale was really ripping that morning, and several times I had to wedge my should into the old Chief to keep the tottery fellow upright.

We had started our descent when who should we see crawling painfully up the rocks on his hands and knees but Old Man Stumpknocker, whose beard was grazing the granite (not to mention scaring sweet old ladies in grocery stores on town days- of which there were a gracious plenty). Some of you who remember Ol’ bearded Stumpy from '03 remember “the look.”

Anyway, Chief puts on his glasses, then recognizes his old friend. He calls out “Stumpknocker!” in a quavery voice. Stumpy looks up from his near-fetal-position crawl and looks left, then right, then above. Finally he says, in his best Jeramiah Johnson voice… “… I’m coming, Mother!”

We waited the thirty minutes it took to close the distance between us, to be neighborly in the best trail spirit. After a lengthy and painful settling in position behind sheltering rocks, I tried to be friendly and start conversation.

“Windy, isn’t it?” I asked.

“No,” Chief butted in. You could tell he wasreal proud he remembered the right answer. “It’s Thursday,” he declared.

Stumpy, not to be outdone (these guys are real competitive geezers) piped up in that quavery voice: “So am I! Let’s grab a beer.”:slight_smile:

True story.
You can read about it here:
dub-dub-dub-dot-trailhournalsdotcombackslash liteshoe
javascript:smile(’;)’)

Jan Liteshoe

#16

Poor ol’ Liteshoe. I knew when I saw her gumming her food a couple years ago, that it would probably be her mind that went next. Her recall of that day in the Whites is not even close to the way it really happened.

I was walking south, just finishing that long climb up Mt Madison, when I looked up and saw my ol’ buddy Chief just finishing his climb up Mt Madison walking north. We shook each other’s hand (with a manly grip that would have crushed a rock), then I got my bandana out to wipe the sweat off my forehead, but realized that I didn’t even break out a sweat from that 4,000 foot climb, so I put my bandana away and sat down on a rock to catch up on how my ol’ buddy’s long walk has been.

We had been sitting there for nearly 45 minutes when I could see this sorry lookin’ older woman hiker slowly making her way up Mt Madison. I said to my ol’ buddy Chief, look at that sorry lookin’ older woman hiker slowly making her way up this mountain.

My ol’ buddy Chief looked back down the mountain, then looked back at me and rolled his eyes. He said; “Yeah, that older woman hiker’s name is Liteshoe. She’s really ruined my hike because I’m always waiting on her to catch up. You know how it is when I hike with you and you are always waiting on me?”

I said; “Yeah, you poor thing. It’s tough always having to wait on your hiking partner to catch up. You’re a good friend to wait on that poor older woman hiker called Liteshoe.”

Chief said; “Look Stumpy…could you take that older woman hiker off my hands and hike with her for a while?”

I said; “Chief, you know I’m hiking this Trail in the much harder direction going south. I got a really late start from Katahdin this year. If it was a month earlier, I would gladly turn around and help you get that older woman hiker by the name of Liteshoe to Katahdin, but my friend, Springer is calling, and I must continue along my way.”

I said goodbye to my ol’ buddy Chief and easily picked up my pack and put it on my back, then headed south.

I got half way down Mt Madison when I finally got to the point where that older woman hiker by the name of Liteshoe was struggling on her way up the mountain, and I said to her; “Keep it up honey, you’re almost there.”

She sat down heavily on a rock, caught her breath, look me over from head to toe, then smiled and said; “My, oh my…you must be Stumpknocker!! I was told I would recognize you when I saw you because you were the most complete hiker anyone had ever seen…agile, muscular, cute, funny…a real manly hiker.”

I smiled and thanked her for the compliment, then reminded her that we had already met before. It was in 2002, a much harder year to hike the Trail than 2003 was. I was walking swiftly in an extremely heavy downpour, enjoying the weather, when I saw you sitting on a rock with your head sticking through a hole in a garbage bag. I asked if you were alright and you said in an pathetic way; “NO!!! I’m NOT alright!!! I am sitting here with my head stuck through a hole in a garbage bag in an extremely wicked storm, and I’m cold and soaking wet. I’m just an older woman hiker who should be home sitting on a sunny porch knitting potholders.”

I said to myself as I swiftly walked on; “Now there’s an older woman hiker that my ol’ buddy Chief should hook up with someday.”

Isn’t it amazing, my ol’ buddy Chief and that older woman hiker named Liteshoe actually hooked up and were walking together, just like I had imagined they should back in 2002. Go figure!! :slight_smile:

Stumpknocker

#17

Well I obviously don’t qualify as an older hiker because I am only 55. Plus I still have all my hair, have a six-pack, and my hair is still red. However, I am hoping my hiking partners from the PCT and CDT will respond to this extremely entertaining thread. J.B. and Mr. D, aged 67 and 71 respectively, can you chime in you old goats.
Love, Robocop

Robocop

#18

I welcome you to review my journal from my 2004 thru hike. I was 62 years old and had some experience from working with high school students in their outing club. It is under my name “Art Cloutman” not under my trail name. I hiked a couple of days with Jan in 2002 and had hoped to hike with her in 2003 but had to change my Plans. I’ve met Stumpknocker, actually hiked with him for short distances on a couple of occassions. I’ve entertained Chief and Jan at my home when they were on their thru hikes. I think you will find my journal informative but not as artistic as Jan’s. A great deal of the pleasure of a Thru Hike is in the planning a preparation. Injoy your hike and let me know if I can help in anyway.
Gabby Art

Art Cloutman

#19

JB, Mr. D, Robo…anyone of those “Spring Chickens” will be a wealth of excellent information! :slight_smile:

Ellie

#20

Poor Stumpy.
Ginko biloba will help that memory recall.
Or,
Did you know that the active component in the Alzheimer’s drug Aricept was derived from one compound in the herb rosemary, “the herb of remembrance?” You might check out a rosemary tincture.

Or lots and lots of Italian food, although anyone with eyes can see you’ve already been tucking plenty of that away on those frequent town stops. (You could always sprinkle your fried chicken with the stuff, too.)

Luckily, I can set the record straight. What really happened that pouring-down rain in March of 2002 was, there I was, striding merrily along SOUTHBOUND, thinking “how much easier it would be to travel this direction, but then… what’s the point?” Where was the challenge?

It was a gorgeous day of extreme weather, and I was digging the raw energy and beauty of early March - the rain dripping off the copper beeches, the leafless vistas, the early squaw root. (Good thing I was digging it, because 2003 would turn out to be a “VERY WET YEAR,” which is why poor Stumpy took such a long vacation from the AT that year, not returning until the rains ceased).

So there I was striding merrily along, inhaling the whole experience of being in the mountains in the driving rain, when here comes a hunched figure NOBO (I might add) down the trail towards me. Head to toe, he was covered in Frog-togged tyvek, and was taking his job of keeping his footing in the running river of a trail very, very seriously. Which is a good thing. I was glad he had hiking poles to steady himself.

I saw that, due to the noise of the rain and his head-down concentration, that he was not seeing or hearing me, so I stepped of the trail to let this old fellow, trying SO HARD, pass. He hobbled along, closing slowly. Twenty yards… I ate a sandwich. Ten yards… I topped that off with a Snickers. Five yards - I took a swig of water.

Refreshed, I waited for him to pass by.

I suppose the movement of me shelving my water bottle caught his eye, for suddenly he startled violently, and toppled over on his side, grasping his chest. I felt badly, because I had meant to be kind, not kill the poor fellow with fright. I knew that folks near Franklin were just getting the beginning of their trail legs, and certainly one this well-fed was a candidate for heart attack.
He’d probably thought I was a bear.

For about one-half second, I considered CPR, but you have to remember, there was that beard thing. No telling WHAT lived in there! Still, one can’t stand by idly. I said to him, “Poor man, you gonna die. So, any last requests? Any money you’d like to leave to me?”

I noticed a Snickers had fallen out of his pack onto a rock in the fall. “And,” I added, trying to be helpful, “you gonna eat that?” I knew he was not long for this world. He kept gasping “it’s the Big One!”

Perhaps it was the pool of icy water he fell into that revived him, for the next thing I hear is him asking shakily if I could help him to his feet. Of course, I wanted to help. But I didn’t exactly have a derrick with me! What to do, what to do?

Luckily, the old Chief came by, hiking with his two “daughters.” Chief was looking well for an old guy, although equally well-fed and obviously in over his head with the “daughters.”

Luckily, they were young and strong like oxen, and between the three of us, with Chief helpfully counting 1…2…3… Heeeeeeave!" in a quavery voice from the sidelines, we managed to set him upright. We recovered his teeth, hearing aid, canes, toupee and glasses, restoring what little dignity we were able. I asked him his name, and a confused look came over his face. “How soon do you need to know?” he asked belligerantly.

After a thorough examination and a search of his pack, in which Chief managed to pocket the poor guys remaining three Snickers (“I can always spit out the peanuts later if I can’t get them chewed,” whispered Chief) , Ol’ Stump assured us he was fine - relatively anyway. That manly pride thing persists a long time.

So we left him propped up against a tree, water streaming from every crevice, looking for his missing Snicker bars.

Now you know the rest of the true True story. Again, there is documentation, not tottery old-man memory. In fact, you can read about it here: dub-dub-dub-dot-trailjournalsdotcom backslash liteshoe t:smile(’)

“Gabby” Art Cloutman 2004 can verify the general tenor of the times, since he saw me hauling in all that fried chicken and biscuits for Art’s trail magic in 2004, with Stumpy limping far behind, doing his darned best, dear old thing. :wink:

I second that Art’s journal would be a good chronicle of a laid-back hike.

Jan Liteshoe