LIFE CHANGES ON THE APPALACHIAN TRAIL

BY CAROLYN DAUT

carolyn daut

I WROTE ABOVE MY SKETCH, “IT FEELS LIKE MY LIFE IS GOING TO CHANGE AS SOON AS I WALK OVER THIS BRIDGE”. THAT WAS THE FIRST HOUR OF MY FIRST DAY ON THE APPALACHIAN TRAIL.

It was on a cool spring morning in 2021, sitting on a wooden bench looking over the Potomac River in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. I sketched the scene: the flow of the river, green hills in the distance, and a bird sitting on crumbling bridge foundations. The path that would lead me forward into something new and unknown was laid out in front of me.

The Appalachian Trail, or “A.T.”, is a continuous footpath that stretches along the east coast of the United States of America. The A.T. is 2,193.1 miles (3,529.4 kilometers) long and includes 515,000 vertical feet (156,972 meters) of elevation gain and loss. That elevation is equal to summiting Mt Everest 16 times! The promised beauty of the American wilderness is tempered by dangerous terrain, difficult trail conditions, and inclement weather. The success rate of hikers finishing the A.T. remains around 25%. I wanted to join that exclusive club, and I wanted to do it with sketchbooks and watercolors in tow.

I added new micron pens to my food resupply boxes and curated my travel watercolor set to best reflect the dreamy green and brown landscapes I would encounter. I had to carry everything I needed on my back, often for eight hours a day or more, so the weight of every item was scrutinized and pared down. The heaviest art supply item ended up being the sketchbook itself. To save weight, I deconstructed then sewed together a series of 30-page sketchbooks. When one book was completed, I would mail it home and start fresh, looking forward to where the next bend in the trail would take me.

It took me five months to backpack the entire A.T. I walked in the snow, rain, sleet, and sun. I walked over mountains and through valleys. I walked until I bled, until I laughed, and until I cried. These sketchbooks joined me for the whole adventure. I filled every page with art and observations drawn on location. When I arrived home, footsore and hungry, I sewed the books back together. The result is a 200-page journey through the Appalachian Mountains as I found strength through art and adventure on this infamous American footpath.

It wasn’t easy to keep up with both the hike and my artwork. It was not uncommon for me to have a string of rainy days with nothing more interesting to draw than the inside of my tent, or to feel so hurt and exhausted that creativity felt out of reach. Through each trial and during every bad day, I picked up my pen and let the drawings flow.

This sketchbook is as real and raw as I could possibly make it. I didn’t try to capture just the big trail highlights, or paint vista after vista. What I attempted was to capture a few moments in time that when viewed all together might allow some glimpse into the mundane and extraordinary life of a long-distance hiker.

When I think about what I’ve accomplished, and how it was to be out there on the Appalachian Trail, I feel it in my chest like I’m about to laugh or cry. It’s almost painful and it’s hot to the touch. It was the experience of a lifetime, but not one that I had and now is left behind on the last summit. I think that is what makes these sketchbooks so special to me. I was able to catch some part of who I became over the course of this journey and press it between the pages of a book like the dried flowers I used to hoard as a girl.

I changed, the moment I drew my first sketch and took those first steps. How, exactly I will continue to change is still out there for me to discover.