In 2001, I chose to do a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. Quite an adventure for a woman turning 46 with no real backpacking experience. It’s an adventure I would encourage anyone of any age or gender to make.

That year, during the first week of hiking in Georgia, I met Stump, a southern lady wearing a pearl necklace. 

July 4 found us hiking over Stoney Mountain in Pennsylvania, signing the register tucked into a mailbox in the middle of the woods at Yellow Springs. As we walked we reminisced about family traditions, where and how our loved ones were spending the Fourth, the food that would be served and that, next summer, we would be reminiscing about being in the woods with no real celebration, no family, no barbecue, no fireworks on the Fourth of 2001.

We stopped for a snack break and took up conversation with Ranger Rick, who was a section hiker from Ohio. He had written a book about the Philmont Boy Scout Camp in Arizona and was meeting the illustrator, Pete, who lived in Pennsylvania, for an overnight visit which meant a real meal, a shower and a real bed.

We said our goodbyes, wished him well on his luxurious accommodations for the night and continued hiking. When we got to the road-crossing, Pete was there waiting for a friend, whom he said was hiking the AT.

Putting two and two together, we asked if that would be Ranger Rick and, if it was, he was probably 10 minutes behind us. With that information Pete pulled out a conch shell and blew into it, the noise clearly resonating over the field and mountainside. He said Ranger Rick would know it was him.

As we visited a few more minutes, Ranger Rick joined us and Pete invited me and Stump to join them on the overnight visit. We looked at each other and never hesitated — remember the real meal, shower and real bed was quite an enticement.

Off we went to Lebanon, Pa., to Pete’s friends and enjoyed a pool party, pig roast, kegs of Yuengling, homemade ice cream, a parade with marching music and flags with all the grandchildren.

The funniest part was when we got to the party, Pete turned to Ranger Rick and said, “Introduce your friends.” Ranger Rick looked at us and said, “I have no idea who they are. I just talked to them for five minutes during a snack break.”

Ilse Scheller Mercier lives in Livermore Falls. Her trail name is “Izzy.”