Each year, only about one out of every four hikers who set out to complete the Appalachian Trail reaches that goal. A thru-hike means traversing nearly 2,200 miles, across 14 states, in a single 12-month period. It’s a monumental feat of physical and emotional endurance. Betty Kellenberger, an 80-year-old retired school teacher from Michigan, shares her story of completing the hike.
Amna Nawaz:
Each year, only about one out of every four hikers who set out to complete the Appalachian Trail reaches that goal.
A thru-hike, as it’s known, means traversing nearly 2,200 miles across 14 states in a single 12-month period. It’s a monumental feat of physical and emotional endurance, but it’s not just a journey for the young, as a retired schoolteacher from Michigan explains.
Betty Kellenberger, Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker:
My name is Betty Kellenberger. I have just completed a through hike of the Appalachian Trail. And in doing so, because I’m 80, I set a record. I’m the oldest female to have completed the thru-hike.
I read about it in my little weekly reader in elementary school. And I just thought that would be wonderful, had that thought and kind of buried it, lived with it, but buried it. I had lived through COVID, and somewhere along the line, the idea of doing the Appalachian Trail reentered my vision.
And initially, I thought, oh, yes, right. And then I thought, well, how long do you think you have? Did I think I had another 10 years to think about it? How long? And so I just got busy and started training and got out there.
Early on, in Georgia, I tripped on a rock, face-planted, ended up with two Black eyes and a bloody nose. And one of my first thoughts was, I didn’t quit. At least I didn’t quit. So I got up and I continued hiking. And on that one — that was in ’22 — I was able to get from Georgia to Harpers Ferry, which is considered halfway.
And then I had picked up a partner, a trail partner, and we flew to Maine and we were going to hike south. He fell coming down off of Katahdin, hurt himself. I went on then by myself, which probably wasn’t the brightest thing I have ever done.
But I had Lyme. I had gotten myself severely dehydrated. I had a concussion. And I met a couple of hikers who pointed that out to me. They realized I was in trouble and we got me into town. The town got me into the hospital and the doctor said: “No, you need to get off.”
So then I went out last year, started at Harpers Ferry and headed south. And that particular time I ran into a little lady named Helene, the hurricane that just destroyed the South. And they didn’t want us right there in the midst of everything and making the mess worse, and then offered us a deal.
They said, if you get off now, when you come back in ’25, your first step on the trail will be your step one, and you can bring with it your accumulated mileage. So I did. I came back this spring and finished up.
And once I got close — people kept saying, how old are you? This might be a record. And I thought, I don’t think so. But then pretty soon it came back, yes, it was. It was going to establish a record, if I could live through Maine and get to Katahdin. Then it was just a whole new level of excitement.
I think we were made for movement. We were made to think. We were made as spiritual beings. It doesn’t mean they have to go out and hike the Appalachian Trail, but they have to move. Life is a journey. And we travel a lot of journeys.
And what we want to do as we’re traveling is not focus on the end, but focus on the journey itself. Because, once it ends, it’s over. And the only thing you have are your memories. Make use of the time that you have been given.
Amna Nawaz:
Man, I want to be more like Betty.
