The Benton MacKaye Trail
Jay Davis
April 21, 2025 info
August 14, 2025: I am finally getting around to finishing this article that, yes, I started back in April, recounting my backpacking trip in March 2025. Enjoy...
Our first night on the trail, I awoke to the sound of a gas engine sput-sput-sputtering as it tried and failed to start somewhere in the valley below.
I was tired of my toes being cold. We had camped on a ridge. Maybe it would have been warmer if we had found a nice cove or a cave or a cleft in the rocks away from the wind. Maybe this was all a bad idea.
There it was again. Ugh. Who would be starting a gas motor this early in the morning?
It was an odd sound. There was something not right about it.
I thought ahead to our day, wondering if I could handle the uphill sections as we headed toward the suspension bridge over the Etowah river, where we planned to camp our second night. Eric had said he would make coffee. That would be nice. I wondered if he was awake over in his tent.
There it was again.
Hm. I don't think that's an engine. I'm feeling it in my chest more than hearing it.
Oh, wait.
That's a Ruffed Grouse! "Eric, you up? You hear that? A Ruffed Grouse!" I shouted.
That got me out of the tent.
I heard the grouse an additional eight or ten times as I fetched our bear bags, then lurched down to the spring below camp to fill my water bottles. Try as I might, though, I couldn't figure out where the grouse was other than a general direction.
But I was thrilled to hear a Ruffed Grouse calling (beating?) so early in Spring – it was only March 18th!
The day before, I had been surprised to hear a couple Blue-headed Vireos singing (already!) as we climbed slowly up a series of switchbacks to the ridge that the trail would follow for several miles.
This was the test. I had chosen one of the most difficult sections of the Benton MacKaye Trail (BMT), feeling that this would give me a good idea if I could backpack at the tender age of 62. We only did 2.1 miles the first day and there was a lot of stopping since it was almost all uphill.
My companion was Eric Cameron, a transplant from Colorado that I met on a birdwalk last year. Eric is an experienced backpacker and former scout leader who had led trips to Philmont Scout Ranch, among other places. I had mentioned my backpacking idea to him and he said he would enjoy doing it with me. So a few weeks ago I called him, thinking I would call his bluff.
So let's talk about hiking poles.
I've always hated them. Despite buying a pair of the expensive ultra-lightweight carbon fiber poles, they always felt awkward, like unnecessary baggage.
(Well, except when I hiked the Jacks River Trail a few years ago. Okay, yeah, they were helpful in crossing the Jacks River 16 times in thigh deep water. But other than that, no thanks!)
But seriously, serious hikers consistently praise hiking poles. So I had decided to try them out. I figured, if this isn't serious hiking, then what is?
It did not go well. By an hour into our hike on Day 1, my arthritic (fuck me!) hands were already cramping from holding onto the poles. Why do people use these damn things? I was tempted to throw them down the mountainside.
"You're holding your poles wrong," said Eric.
"Cheeky asshole," I thought.
He explained the use of the hand strap, which means you barely grip the handholds, and you can also quickly flip the poles forward to slow you down when heading downhill. It took me a couple days of practice, but this was the most revelatory thing I learned in our four days together.
So I take back the "cheeky asshole" part.
For now.
As I said, this was a tough section of the trail, so we only did about 8 miles a day. I found that I could use the poles to push me uphill and that seemed to take a noticeable load off my legs. By Day 4, I was feeling pretty chipper and felt like I was ready to tackle more miles and a longer trip. :-)
A few highlights, in pictures:
Despite the cold of that last day on the top of Springer Mountain, I've decided that cooler weather backpacking is the way to go. Well that, and the fact that I've been hiking (not even backpacking!) all Summer drenched in sweat.
Oh! And Thanks, Eric, for a great backpacking adventure!