A Walk in the Woods

Hypothermia is one of the most “catastrophic deaths” a hiker can meet on the Trail. David Quammen writes about them in his book Natural Acts. In 1982, four canoeists died after taking a dip in the water at Banff National Park. People tend to associate hypothermia with frigid weather, but it can happen anywhere. A spot of cold rain, inadequate equipment, or getting lost in the woods for too long can easily trigger hypothermia. Richard Salinas, an experienced hiker, died from it in 1990 when he wandered off the Trail in search of a shortcut.

Hypothermia takes hold gradually; you get more disoriented as your body temperature drops, often making irrational decisions (as Salinas did). The night Salinas died, it wasn’t even that cold. If he’d kept his jacket on and stayed out of the water, he would have been fine. The first symptoms are shivering, followed by a warped sense of time and distance, confusion, hallucinations. Then, a person will feel too warm, which often makes them foolishly shed their clothing, just as Salinas did.

Bryson is now in New Hampshire. He finds Vermont’s antique stores, rolling hills, and dairy farms much quainter and more pleasant. New Hampshire is much more rural—over 85 percent of it is forests—and it’s full of hunters. It’s tough territory for hikers to traverse. Bryson feels uneasy tackling it solo. He’s relived when his friend Bill Abdu, who’s an experienced hiker and a surgeon, offers to join him on some day hikes. They tackle the White Mountains together, which are steep, and nearly all granite. They have to climb 2,000 feet in just two miles. The weather is lovely, although the weather in this area is notoriously unpredictable.

When Bryson and Abdu approach the summit of Little Haystack Mountain, it suddenly turns damp and gusty. Bryson quickly looks for his waterproofs, but he’s forgotten them. Bryson decides to press on instead of hiking back to the car, and the weather gets chillier as they ascend onto higher ground. Soon, he’s soaked through. He’s also wearing blue jeans, which are a disaster in bad weather. He’s basically inviting death. The wind grows so strong that it pushes them backward. Fog rolls in, and they can’t see the edges of the ridge. Just half an hour ago, it was warm and sunny. Now, Bryson is shivering and feeling lightheaded.

Bryson feels like he’s on top of things, but he’s quickly getting confused. He feels like time is passing too slowly. He’s too embarrassed to tell Abdu—who’s hiking a bit farther ahead—that he’s feeling weird. It feels like 100 years pass, and Bryson barely notices the summit when they pass through it. As they descend down the other side, the weather grows eerily calm. Luckily, Bryson starts to feel better as they approach Greenleaf Hut, an old stone lodge. It’s beautiful but expensive. Bryson is happy to be able to warm up there.

Taking a look around the lodge, Bryson realizes that the bunks are austere and military-like. He thinks that if MacKaye had been able to realize his vision, the Trail would be lined with lodges like this. Until now, Bryson had imagined the Trail being lined with cozy, comfortable inns—not bootcamp-style barracks. As Bryson and Abdu set off down the mountain, the weather warms up. Bryson is almost dry by the time they reach the car.