For many, 1974 will be remembered as the year Richard Nixon resigned the presidency or the year Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s record. For me, 1974 is the year I solo hiked the Appalachian Trail.

That hike and those mountains changed my life and continue to shape my life nearly 40 years later.

On March 26, 1974, while on break from college, I left my family’s dairy farm in Topsham, traveled to Springer Mountain in Georgia and started my journey north along the AT. I left as a shy, insecure 20-year-old boy and returned four and a half months later an independent and confident young man.

In 1974 trail names, internal frame packs, Gore-Tex, cellphones, water filters and digital cameras didn’t exist. I packed jeans, a chamois shirt, a wool sweater and cans of tuna, along with other essentials, into my stiff, beltless Kelty pack.

Predictably, my hike produced memories of a lifetime. I saw bears, copperhead snakes, wild boars and deer. I was joined in my tent by a hungry raccoon. I experienced temperatures from zero to 100. I was on the edge of a hurricane and a tornado. I had blisters, poison ivy and sunburn … and a lot of fun.

What I remember the most are the people I met along the trail. Mostly, I teamed up with other college students, along with a few Vietnam veterans who hiked to clear their heads.

I’d hike alone for a few days and then join the boys from Lake Forest College. Soon I’d join the girls from Hampshire College and then go it alone for a stretch.

The girl from the University of Colorado and her friend from the University of Iowa would become hiking companions, followed by the UConn guy and the veterans. Then I’d return to my solitude.

With the other hikers, we told stories, challenged one another to hike farther and faster, or experimented with one more way of cooking dreaded noodles. We’d hitchhike down any random road looking for a store that sold a precious candy bar or ice cream. If we found a restaurant, we’d eat food and drink beer in record quantities.

In Vermont, I realized my pack and hiking boots were worn out. I hitchhiked back to Topsham, visited L.L. Bean and decided to complete the last leg heading south from Katahdin. This allowed me to enjoy brief reunions with the friends I’d met along the way. On Aug. 8, my 2,048-mile AT hike concluded in Bennington, Vt.

I returned home, completed college and introduced friends and my sons to hiking and climbing. Mountains have become my social nexus.

New Hampshire’s 4,000-footers, half the Pacific Crest Trail, Kilimanjaro, the Andes in Ecuador, Argentina and Peru are among my adventures over the years. On Aug. 19, 2012, I will join three old college friends to hike California’s John Muir Trail.

In 1974, hiking mountains helped me mature.

In 2012, hiking mountains helps me stay young.

Dana Totman lives in Brunswick.