Gray - Painted Blazes: Hiking the Appalachian Trail with Loner

Painted Blazes

Hiking the Appalachian Trail with Loner

By Jeffrey Loner Gray

PAINTED BLAZES Hiking the Appalachian Trail with Loner

Copyright 2017 Jeffrey Loner Gray

All rights reserved. No portion of this book, whether text, art, or photography may be duplicated without prior permission by the publisher and the author, except portions used in reviews or articles.

eBook Edition Copyright April 2017.

2nd Edition Copyright August 2017.

Shadow Archer Press LLC.

110 Johnson Street Suite #1060

Pickens, SC 29671 U.S.A.

Official Website: http://PaintedBlazes.com/.

Publisher: http://ShadowArcherPress.com/.

Email: .

Cover design: Vicente A. Mendoza.

Disclaimer: Prices of hostels and other services are provided as a reference of general costs. Most prices have changed, and unfortunately, some business may be closed or no longer available. The author or publisher assume no liabilities arising from this book or its content.

*Authors note: Highlights from my Appalachian Trail hike can be found posted on YouTube. They closely follow the book contents and may help you better visualize some of the people and places. http://youtube.com/c/Loner2012AT/.

Contents

For my mother, who taught me to live life to the fullest.

Mom and Loner, April 7th, Amicalola Falls State Park.

April 7th, the day before Easter, Kendall, my granddaughter, and I dropped off my son, Jeffrey, at Amicalola Falls State Park, Georgia, for his 2,100 plus mile hike of the Appalachian Trail (AT). As his mom, I must admit I've been frantic since he left.

Jeff chose his trail name, Loner. Although mostly English, Irish, Polish and Russian, I would have given Jeff a Native American trail name from the Algonquin's, who are in his ancestral line on his father's side dating back to his great-great-great grandmother, from the time when one of the British Grays of Gray, Maine, married an Algonquin girl. In their language, the most fitting name for Jeff would be, Enkoodabaoo, which means one who lives alone.

Jeff wanted us to hike with him to see the majestic Amicalola Falls. Families of all nationalities were cooking out, having Easter egg hunts and playing badminton. I had expected a quiet, rather sacred send off and couldn't quite wrap my head around all the colorful frivolity and activity. Unfortunately, Kendall was in flip flops and had to walk with her feet stretched out so as not to go careening in backward somersaults, bowling over large families of East Indians, Asians and Hispanics, causing them in turn, to execute backward somersaults resulting in an avalanche of international proportions.

While I was tremendously excited for Jeff, it was bittersweet to see him wave goodbye on that switchback trail and wondered if I would ever see him again. On the way home, I attempted to drive serenely through the countryside while my granddaughter fell happily into a three-hour Dramamine doze. Finally, I couldn't hold it together anymore. Volumes of tears cascaded down my cheeks, enough to rival Amicalola Falls.

I wanted to picture what he was doing. Where did he sleep? Were his socks wet? Did he have enough food in that ridiculously tiny backpack? Who did he meet? What are their trail names? Has he met any crazy people? Whew! Time to take a breath

While Jeff is a quiet guy, his dads family riled-up his adventurous spirit. Every man Jeff knew - great-grandfather, grandfather, dad, uncles - all drove racecars. Most in the late models of their day. His dad specialized in figure eights. Jeff, at ten months old, sat on my lap with earplugs in his ears. When we moved to South Carolina, Jeff was bummed out having to leave our picturesque lakeside village, Dracut, Massachusetts, at age 10 and moving to Greenville, a relatively large city. But he found his niche when he started skateboarding in the early 1980s going from the street, to half-pipe ramps he built in the backyard, to jumping over cars in competitions.

Jeff also spent a lot of time in the woods. My then boyfriend, Steve, a mountain man to be sure (he caught rattlesnakes for Clemson University, in pillowcases as we hiked) would often take us to the Blue Ridge Mountains. Jeff then started collecting arrowheads and still walks fields and explores lakes in his kayak - but that's a whole other story.

Still, Jeff couldn't resist driving a racecar and started building cars in the backyard at age 16. He was a shy guy, in rough pits where drinking was almost the rule and fights broke out often. Jeff doesn't drink alcohol, but he was still respected by the other rather rowdy drivers because during the first race, his car went airborne (not by Jeff's design) - just like on The Dukes of Hazard, and everyone thought he did it just to show off.

I then thought he was feeding his adventurist side enough when he went back to skateboarding in a big way, while in his thirties. Founding his own skateboard company, he traveled throughout the southeast filming his team's road trips. But I guess that still wasn't enough.

If you meet him at any one of the hostels or shelters along the trail, you'll never guess he's done all these things. You'll meet a quiet, unassuming guy; a deep thinker in touch with the world on a natural level, like the Native Americans. His whole life, he's navigated the Jungian approach without knowing it, learning who he is. Even beneath the shy surface and droll sense of humor, he quietly and with dedication, goes after his dreams and makes them come true. He has lived a minimalist lifestyle for many years - and when I say minimal, I mean it. All his worldly belongings would fit in a couple of trunks. My daughter, Beth, and I have a terrible time trying to get him to hang onto things like photos. We kind of do that for him.

Now, he's taken another spiral on his quest over the 39 years of his life, as he's been circling around this unknown goal for many years in the wide range of activities with which he's become obsessed - all of which, I imagine, has taught him skills and given him the mental tools for this most unique experience yet.

Gail Gray, Loners mom.

*Gail Gray is a self-taught artist, photographer and author best known for her gothic novel, Shaman Circus . She has also written two books of shorts stories: Memories & Monsters and Dark Voices , in addition to seven books of poetry and multiple DIY books related to the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism, a medieval re-enactment organization). She was the editor of two magazines: Fissure , a magazine of experimental art and writing, and The Howling , a goth literary magazine. Gail founded Shadow Archer Press in 1993, which continues to publish books on a variety of subjects.

Loner begins the Approach Trail at Amicalola State Park.

2,178 miles in all , the Appalachian National Scenic Trail, or AT for short, stretches from Springer Mountain, Georgia, all the way up the Southeastern United States to Mount Katahdin, Maine. I had already been studying and training for months when I finally made the announcement to my family during Christmas: I was going to attempt a northbound thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail, and my goal was to walk the entire distance in a single hiking season. My reasons for attempting this? Maybe I needed to take a break from real life, and wanted to live in the adventure of it all. Also, to experience the satisfaction from learning everything I can about a fixation, then making it a reality. This would be my most ambitious undertaking yet.