Dad and I had struggled with alcohol dependence for years. But we took on the 2,200-mile Appalachian Trail, a multiyear journey only made possible by sobriety.
Indeed, my dad inspired me that summer with his grit. He was such a champ as we scrambled over tricky spots, like the Mahoosuc Arm that tested our every step in a full-on rock scramble.
Alas, I am known as Skid Mark, an unfortunate nickname I got as an adolescent from Uncle Glen, whose completion of the trail in 1974 initially inspired us to hike. Festus and I even came up with our own slogan: “A lot of miles, a lot of smiles and a lot of high-fives.”Walking along the trail in Massachusetts in 2019, I faced a tough conversation. But somehow the AT made it possible.
I felt a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders. It took some time, but he eventually came to accept my decision. Shira and I were married at the end of the year. For the first time in his life, my dad wore a yarmulke and we all danced the horah. Festus and Skid Mark take a break in Maine near the end of their 23-year journey on the Appalachian Trail.