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Creating the American Perimeter Trail

The following is a guest post courtesy of Rue McKenrick and the American Perimeter Trail


Sixteen months ago I took my first steps on the very start of the American Perimeter Trail. Everything had come to this moment. All the tears, pain, and confusion, the meditation, rejoicing, falling and getting back up, and night sweats… oh, the nights.

My friend and I walked to the top of a beautiful 97-foot waterfall and then we parted. I looked back over the expanse of a glacial drainage and the Deschutes Basin. I retrieved a memento from my pocket. It was a rock I had carried for 13 years in honor of a passed friend. I rubbed it on my hand and then promptly threw it into the cascade, into oblivion. The first mile into the trek I came upon a sign stapled to a tree. It read “Danger AHEAD” and was accompanied by a skull and crossbones. Was this a sign foreshadowing the next 11,000+ miles? I was here, now, standing on the American Perimeter Trail.

I first conceived of the APT 12 years earlier. At the time I had already completed the Triple Crown of backpacking. I wondered what was next in life. I envisioned a trail that made a loop around the entire contiguous United States with no ending or beginning. It would be connected as links in a chain and truly infinite as a circle. I guessed this trail would be about 12,000 miles long and travel through 27 states. I would be the first backpacker, scout, and executive director of The APTProject.

This map shows what’s been done so far. The red solid line has already been backpacked, but is not necessarily final.

Just one minor problem—the trail didn’t exist. I spent very little time worrying about this. I would just hike south from Oregon, then east, then north, then west, and then south again to Oregon. I knew I would be making route decisions often, based on local information, land management agencies, limited public land, resupply, and water. I had no idea that a pandemic was lurking, divisiveness would become mainstream, and there would be civil unrest all over this country. I did not have a guide. I used whatever maps I could find and “Silva,” my trusty compass, for this scouting mission.

In time I created the American Perimeter Trail Project, injured my back, got Giardia, was hospitalized and then hospitalized again, and saw the most amazing views. I am not just speaking of the view one finds while cresting a peak to behold a majestic vista. I speak of the view I saw of the communities, the politics, the religions, the cultures, and my own heart. When the living got hard and raw, the blessings manifested and multiplied. When the weather was too hot it was followed by a cooling. When the terrain was too dry, rain would follow. These are the seasons and the cycles. I watched them turn, turn, turn from the view.

Coordinator Leilah joined The American Perimeter Trail Project as what seemed as an act of providence. Public relations Dani would appear almost as if out of thin air. The APT now had a solid organizational foundation and a caring and generous community.

I traveled alone every day and camped by myself every evening. I sometimes felt as if someone or something was with me or following me. This is often described as FOPs, or feelings of presence brought on by stress and/or extreme physical exertion or duress. At other times I perceived the presence as a vibrational energy that flowed in and through everything in the universe. It was there with me on the loneliest trek of my life. Namely the southwest/east and the western Appalachian routes during a global pandemic. I would commit to isolation over the next 3,000 miles and several months.

A bounty of a steady supply stream sprang from gear sponsors, media, and most importantly, the APT community. On the other hand, my physical, emotional, and spiritual body slowly began to fall apart. It was hard to admit at first, but I had become systemically ill. Here, alone in the Dakotas. I had been ill for a couple of months but had been pushing through as best as I could. With winter approaching and the COVID numbers beginning to increase all over the country, I saw the writing on the wall that the country might close down again. I decided to take a pause to address my health in the most responsible manner to myself and others.

Day 1 was nearly a year and a half ago. I will return to the trail as soon as it is possible. I do not feel a void where trail life once lived. My life is full of new beings, first-time experiences, and the beautifully infinite work of The American Perimeter Trail Project.

We’ve linked a few ways below for people to join us in building this connection to the land and to its people. What was once a thought or a dream has become one of America’s brightest conservation projects.

Find contribution info on the Support the Trail page. You will also find a link to all media content from Rue.

Facebook: American Perimeter Trail Project 
 American Perimeter Trail Project Community Group

Instagram: @ruemckenrick
@americanperimetertrailproject

Twitter: @AmerPerimTrail


Rue McKenrick is a Triple Crowner, executive director of The America Perimeter Trail Project, and creator and proprietor of the American Perimeter Trail.

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