Michelle Houts - When Grandma Gatewood Took a Hike

When Grandma Gatewood Took a Hike

When Grandma Gatewood Took a Hike

Written by Michelle Houts

Illustrated by Erica Magnus

To M. G. W.

Michelle Houts

For all children young and old who love our Earth, most especially Nina and Sophia.

Erica Magnus

Many years ago in a not-so-fancy, rather crowded log house in the woods not far from the Ohio River, Emma Rowena Caldwell Gatewood grew up with fourteen brothers and sisters. Eventually, she got married and raised eleven children of her own.

Emma had the greenest thumb and the most bountiful garden north of the Ohio River. She relished lifes simple joys, like finding Dutchmans-breeches in bloom on a spring morning and visiting with neighbors near and far.

When other folks started to buy cars, Emma chose to walk. She walked over a hill to care for an ailing neighbor. She walked to town to clean houses for others. Five minutes or five miles, Emma didnt mind the walk.

The roads of Appalachia twisted and turned, but Emmas route always took the most direct pathas the crow flies. No matter that it took a body over hills, through thickets, or across streams, Emma always got where she was going on foot.

One day, after her children were grown and raising children of their own, Emma picked up a magazine. She found a story about a man who had spent months walking the entire length of the Appalachian Trail. It was a long hike. Two thousand miles long between Georgia and Maine. Several men had completed the journey, but not one woman.

Hmmph, thought spunky old Emma. If a man can do it, so can I!

Of course, Emma was an experienced walker. But hiking? Hiking was not something she knew much about. So, she read about what she might need on the trail, and she sewed a nifty sack from a yard of denim fabric. She stuffed it full of clothing and food.

Then, on a morning in July, Emma Gatewood went by bus to Maine and climbed up Mount Katahdin. After she signed her name on the official Appalachian Trail register, she was on her way! If she walked south and stayed on the trail, shed be in Georgia before Thanksgiving.

On the first day, she hiked over rocks and around a lake. She saw blueberry bushes and chipmunks, but very few hikers. This didnt bother Emma. She liked being on her own in the middle of nature.

But her aloneness didnt last long. As she passed by a rain-rotted sign on the trail, a swarm of blackflies decided to join her. Pesky and bitey, the blackflies wouldnt leave. Emma swatted and batted at them until she noticed the trail was not much of a trail anymore. She wandered for hours.

She was lost.

Emma Gatewood didnt get discouraged. She built a fire and stayed put. Throughout the night, cold rain fell as she tried to sleep on the hard ground. The next morning, she set out again. Once, she lost her eyeglasses. She couldnt find them anywhere and then...

Crunch!

Without her glasses, Emma was doomed. She tried to fix them with a Band-Aid, but that didnt work out so well.

Overhead, two airplanes buzzed the treetops. They flew low and slow.

Now what in the world could they be looking for? Emma wondered. Then it hit her like an acorn falling from an oak tree. They were searching for her!

The search planes couldnt see the tiny old lady lost in the brush. So, she decided to hike back the way she had come. When she rounded a bend and ran smack dab into a search party, everyone was surprised.

A park ranger took one look at Emma Gatewood, with her fly bites and broken glasses, and shook his head.

Go home, Grandma, he told her.

He was the first person (besides her own grandchildren) to call Emma Rowena Caldwell Gatewood Grandma. But he surely wouldnt be the last.

Just like that, Grandma Gatewoods dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail had ended. Back to Ohio she went.

As summer turned to fall, Grandma Gatewood continued to do all the things she loved. She visited family in California. Back home in Ohio, she taught her grandchildren to recognize the calls of birds in the meadows. On walks in the woods, she pointed out tiny bluets that grew in the cool shade and lingered well into July.

When her late-summer garden was overflowing, Grandma took to canning. She put up jellies and jams, pickles, and wax beans. Her cupboards were bursting with the fruit of her hard work.

And when fall turned to winter, Grandma cared for folks who were sick. She quilted and sewed and scribbled down poems as they popped into her head.

But all through the seasons, the Appalachian Trail was never far from Grandma Gatewoods thoughts. She just had to find a way to fulfill her dream.

Then one day, she had a thought.

If I cant walk the trail from north to south, Ill walk it from south to north!

So out came the denim bag again, but this time Grandma packed very little. A baby bottle for water, a plastic shower curtain for a tent, a change of clothing, a light blanket, and a little bit of food. She didnt own a pair of hiking boots. High-top sneakers suited Grandma just fine.

On a chilly day in early May, Grandma Gatewood stood atop Mount Oglethorpe in Georgia. She signed the Appalachian Trail register and started walking north.

As Grandma hiked, she made friends with other hikers. She didnt mind sharing the trail, but she wasnt too pleased whenever a hiker went around her.

When the trail crossed meadows and farms, Grandma met families who offered her food or invited her to sleep in their house or barn. Other times the trail crossed mountains, and Grandma was all alone. She ate from the wilderness. Growing up in the hills of Ohio had been good training for finding edible plants and natural springs. After walking many miles every day, Grandma Gatewood had no trouble sleeping at night, even on the cold, rocky ground. And this time, she kept her eyeglasses safely tucked away.