Bartram Trail

My feet hurt so much! “I will never plan a trip with participants where we hike 11 miles in a day,” I declared as we completed our big-mileage day over Rabun Bald, the second highest point in Georgia, and found our less-than-ideal camp site. I had already been living in the wilderness for well over two weeks as part of my May term Wilderness Education Association (WEA) course. I was on final with a few of my classmates. We had planned a few days of hiking without our instructors as a final test of our backpacking skills. We were on the Bartram Trail located near Clayton, Georgia. I was in an ambitious final group who had a craving for challenge, so we set out to push ourselves with big mileage and a lot of elevation change all on day one, followed by low mileage the next two days which would include playing in a waterfall and baking bread. Overall, it was a good trip but at the time it wasn’t something that I felt like we needed to repeat. 

A few months later, it was time to start planning for the spring break wilderness trips that the adventure education major ran every other year. I found myself in yet another ambitious group with a hunger for challenge and a willingness to suffer. We designed “Braving the Wilderness” based on the Brene Brown book about a trip for boys who were coming of age and growing into men. I quickly forgot about the promise that I made with myself to not plan big-mileage backpacking trips. We decided to start our trip off with a 13-mile day carrying the heaviest gear we could find. We would be hiking much of the same route on the Bartram Trail that I had previously done. Our trip had continual adversity, from participant cancellations two weeks before the trip to the long work sessions working through the logistics of the trip; it was a rollercoaster of emotions. The trials all culminated in a phone call that I received as I was prepping food for the trip just days before we were supposed to head south. The COVID-19 pandemic was just taking off and Messiah had decided to cancel all spring break trips. All of our hard work was for nothing. All of the hours spent planning and prepping were a complete waste of time. A few days later I packed up my apartment and headed home to southern Ohio, unsure if I would get to return to school. I finished my senior year remotely and it seemed my relationship with the Bartram Trail had ended. 

“Ok, Caleb,” Deke Rider, Camp Hebron’s executive director, said as he left a board meeting. What followed was the greenlight he had been given for the gap-year program that I had designed. I went to work planning and preparing to welcome the first class of what would become the Guide team. I knew that backpacking would be part of our curriculum. As I explored our options, it became clear that the Bartram Trail would be a great place to take the team. From there the backpacking portion of the Guide experience started to evolve. It started as an experience centered on learning to lead backpacking. I set to work creating the structure that would aid in this process even before we left for the trip. I borrowed the idea from one of my college classes. Students took turns teaching backpacking lessons around camp to learn the basics. We learned to find a good camp site, cook on backpacking stoves, dig catholes, and just about every other skill needed to backpack. As the start date of the trip neared, I started feeling the pressure of handling the logistical side of trip leadership. From making sure we had enough food and fuel to triple checking our driving directions and evacuation routes, trip prep was stressful. As the trip neared, the hours that I spent at work grew and my nights became restless. 

Finally, after weeks of prep it was finally time to head north for the first leg of our adventure. We started on the Old Logger’s Path located in Northern Pennsylvania. That part of the trip was epic in its own right (stay tuned in a later post for stories from that trip), but for now I am going to focus on the second section of our trip, Georgia. After battling snow and ridiculously low temperatures, we finally headed south, and I was reunited with a trail that had come to play a massive role in my life. The first five days were solid. We hiked, we played, we prayed, and we generally had fun. As day five came to an end, I knew that it was time to make preparations for my departure from the group. For the final three days of hiking, the group would travel without me. They would go on final, just as I had about three and a half years ago. It felt weird separating my gear from the group’s. As I looked up at the stars, I prepared mentally for the task ahead of me. 

I woke up to darkness, clicked on my head lamp, made breakfast and packed up; then I started the 20-mile trek back to our van. The first six miles felt easy. I had a snack as the sun broke over the mountains, put back on my pack and kept trekking. Right around mile 10, it was time to refill my water, so I took a break and gave my feet a rest. Around mile 16, I enjoyed my Snickers bar as I looked out across Warwoman Creek. By the time I hit mile 18, the hiking got really hard. With every step I had to fight to keep going. Memories of my original 11-mile day on final were stored up in me. My mind went back to that trip, and it hit me. It was only fitting that I hike out on the Bartram Trail, leading a trip here, and feeling just the same way I had those years earlier. As I trudged to the van, I felt that a journey was coming to an end. The project that had been killed by the pandemic was given a second life and I was getting to finish it. There was finally closure. 

Two days later I was reunited with the rest of my group. I got to hear their epic stories and we spent some time processing our adventure before climbing into the van and heading home. As I walked out of the woods for the last time and got in the van, a wave of unexpected emotions hit me. It felt like the end of a sweet chapter of my life. I felt that by leading this trip, I had finally conquered the Bartram Trail. Something that had consumed years of my life was no more. I felt almost empty, like a piece of me was completed and could now fade away, but I also felt the utmost contentment having finally been given a chance to do what I had done. I will likely return to the Bartram Trail and continue to lead groups there. It was a great place for me to learn to lead and for Guide students to continue the tradition. I can’t wait to share this special place with other adventurers. 

I want to take a moment to acknowledge that this story is a bit different than most of what I write. There is no greater spiritual lesson in this story other than that I had been blessed with an amazing opportunity to see a project through to completion. The lessons that God taught me through this trip are for another post. With that said, I do want to take a second to point out that I am not a good long-distance hiker and that only through prayer for strength was I able to complete my 20-mile hike day. It was also through prayer that we had the level of success we had. There is more to come on this, but for now here is my story. I share it not to glorify myself in any way but only to bring you into what has been going on in my life.