Relections of a Pit Crew Member

Writers Note: Today marks the one year anniversary of when Jennifer Pharr Davis set out to break the Overall Speed Record on the Appalachian Trail. And for me, it marked the beginning of a 22 day adventure that would leave a permanent imprint on my being. It's a bit lengthy but it's my experience and I wanted to share.

It was early May of 20011 when Jennifer Pharr Davis, friend and Current Record Speed Holder of the Appalachian Trail, asked me to assist and photograph her and husband Brew Davis on the northern portion of her hike. Jen and I had spent a great deal of time on the trail together, in fact, our relationship came together and revolved around the trail. We rarely spent time with one another anywhere else. At the time I couldn’t believe what she was asking me to do, but I knew in my heart I wanted to help because I believed in her intentions and I wanted her to succeed.

I asked myself, “Why me?!” I see myself as an average girl who has an intimate love of all things outdoors and I usually have my camera in hand documenting my experiences. I’m not a standout athlete who trains hard, or is into one specific activity, but rather I strive to have equal balance in my life off all things. After discussing the opportunity with my husband Ryan, we decided this was an experience of a lifetime and we had to make it happen.

I left Asheville North Carolina on June 12th. flying 8 hours to Bangor Maine, where fellow team member Warren Doyle picked me up in his multi-colored Ford Escort. I had no idea what to expect. How could I? I had never done anything like this, nor was aware this type of duty even existed! I found myself in a world of unfamiliar things. Back home I left my husband, dog and a newly planted garden. On my back I carried a bag filled with cameras and accessories that I had little knowledge how to use, but knew everything had a purpose. This was a bit of a concern to me, but I somehow stayed oddly calm and confident in my abilities.

The eve before start day in Millinocket Maine, Jen, Brew, Warren and I gathered over dinner to have our first "breakout session." Wasting no time, pens, A.T. guide books and pages containing daily millage goals went flying across the table. I listened, flipped through the guide book pages, trying to read along as we talked about road crossings and critical points in the hike. I learned where I would be packing in gear, setting up camp and the sections of trail that were of Jen’s greatest concern. I would try to respond with confidence, but deep down inside I was terrified. I heard the words, but they had no meaning, how could they? I had never been on this section of trail and knew NOTHING about the it. All I could do was give into the unknown, have faith I was in this position for a reason and when I did respond to the conversation I simply said, “I will do whatever you need me to do,” and I really meant it.

Day one of the hike began at the Katahdin Stream Campground in Baxter State Park, Maine. Together Jen and I slowly scrambled to the ridge line of Mt. Katahdin where I said my good byes and watched her disappear towards the summit. In the early dawn I scurried down the boulder field with a headlamp lighting my way. Knowing Brew and Warren were waiting on me so we could get going to Jen's first re-supply, I began to feel the pressure and responsibility of getting down the mountain in a timely, but safe manner because if I didn’t, what would that do to Jens hike? After safely descending the mountain I jumped into the Davis’s Toyota Higlander and the Pit Crew’s race began! In no time, Brew’s trusty Maine Gazetteer was in my lap, pages splayed open with a highlighted route to guide the way. The old timey melody of Sarah Jarosz played through the speakers and I settled into my seat as a content passenger. Roads to nowhere and lakes everywhere, that’s how I would describe the Maine One Hundred Mile Wilderness.

At the first resupply I experienced two things. First, were the relentless blood thirsty black flies and mosquitoes and second, what it was like to do Jen’s re-supply. As soon as she rolled in we replenished snacks, water bottles and she changed into a fresh pair shoes and socks while her and Warren talked hiking logistics. No sooner than she came Jen was off, bounding for the trail with me close behind snapping photos. I couldn’t believe how action packed the re-supply was and this was going to be the tempo of my life for the next few weeks.

I quickly learned to expect the unexpected and mastering adaptability would be a key to my success. The logistical plans for the day could change at the drop of a dime and I needed to be ready for whatever came my way. At times I felt like a pinball being bounced from one car to another, depending on when and where I needed to be next. My personal belongings and gear were often broken up between two vehicles, often in very different locations. I had to be organized and planning ahead was crucial. Being improperly prepared for any scenario could be a huge logistical mistake for the team and I learned I had to be ready for plan A, B and C and just do what I was told.

So what was my role exactly while on the trail? In the original plan I was to take a bunch of photos and hike some with her at night, however, when Jen's needs changed so did my level of responsibility. Throughout the day I'd hike various sections of trail each with its own purpose. Sometimes I would leave with her from a re-supply, hike in a few miles, then turn around and hike back out. Other times I'd hike northbound meeting her several miles in and together we'd hike back to the re-supply and more often than not, I'd hike entire section of trail.

One thing I could expect daily was night hiking with Jen. She often referred to our night hikes as her cool down for the day and our "girls’ night out." I also enjoyed our night hikes, but at times it led to a great deal of pressure. Some locations were quite technical and required a great deal of focus to navigate in the dark and adding rain, clouds and the fact I had little knowledge of the trail to the mix made it all the more challenging. Also, by nightfall Jen would be purely exhausted, in pain and energy deficient. Each night I felt a strong sense of responsibility that she made it off trail safely and this became more taxing when Jen became plagued by debilitating shins splints. I would tell her long stories of my life to distract her from the pain and learned if I hiked far enough ahead, creating the sense she was loosing me, really kept her moving. I had to ignore her cries of pain and constantly encouraged her accomplishments. She was a force to be reckoned with, but even strong girls have bad days.

Brief side story: One day Brew and I got a call from Jen while on trail. She was sick and needed me to hike in to help her out. This was also the day I faced my greatest fear which was Jen not being on trail when and where she was supposed to be. Hours later and 6 miles in, nightfall was upon me with rain rolling in. I noticed I had cell service so I made some very concerned calls to Brew and Warren. I learned she had found a road shortly after calling us and  been helped by a couple. I was told to continue hiking to the next road where a friend of hers named Adam was waiting for me.

A friend? I was so confused, but didn't care. It was a huge relief to know she was safe but it was time to become aware of my needs. I ran out of the woods and noticed Jen's pack with a small note that read, "STAY HERE." Again confused, but was so hungry I ripped her bag open and began devouring all of her snacks. Moments later I heard an unfamiliar voice call out my name and it was Adam. I had never been more excited about meeting a complete stranger, but in no time this stranger would begin to feel more like dear friend who was sharing a similar experience. Adam took me to his camp offered a chair, hot fire, food and beer. I was cold, wet and emotionally defeated, but his welcoming character quickly put me at peace. After a while the rest of the team showed up and we set up camp for the night. That day I couldn't have happier to be off trail and in the comforting shelter of my tent.

There were key moments in the hike when Jen would have to sleep on trail which required me to pack in overnight gear. Brew and I would gather both Jen and my supplies which included food, tent, sleeping pads, bags, fresh clothing, socks, footbeds, herbal supplements, wrap supplies for her shins, lights and back up batteries. Depending on the location would determine how I would hike. Sometimes I would hike in on a side trail that would intersect the A.T. and set up camp. I would then continue hiking north bound till I met Jen on trail, then lead her out for a night hike. Other times from the last re-supply of the day, we'd hike together till she was ready to set up camp and sleep. Most nights we camped, I slept little due to heavy winds, severe storms and Jen’s heavily congested snores. We always rose by 4:30 AM and Jen would immediately hit the trail. I would be left behind to pack up the gear, scurrying close behind by 5.

No matter the weather conditions on trail we had to push on. Normally in severe thunderstorms I'd be wise and seek safe refuge, but during a speed record attempt there's no stopping for inclement weather. Instead I'd pray to my Angles for protection and try to convince myself to become one with the storm. Twice I experienced not being able to summit a mountain because strong winds would humbly take my small frame to the ground. Cold and damp temperatures were common up North and the shin deep mud, slick rocks and roots were relentlessly unforgiving. I took my fair share of hard falls, but getting up and moving forward was a must no matter how badly I hurt.

My unique role as a support crew member allowed me to see miles of trail, but I also drove over a thousand miles of country back roads. We frequently passed through quintessential towns and met some of nicest people who were all very eager to hear the story of Jen’s hike. I drank some great micro brews, showered whenever I could and became used to the idea that I never really knew where we were headed next. I slept next to busy highways, on mountain tops, next to old Puritan walls and on stage in a church. My tent became my home away from home and each night I would set it up in my special way. It was one of the few places I could be alone with my thoughts and my experiences. It was occurring to me that no one would see this hike from my perspective and how wild was that?

I missed my husband, family and friends dearly. I would call home whenever I could. Talking with them would give me a sense of normalcy. Being a part of something so huge and out of the ordinary challenged me. My balanced life I knew at home was long gone and I had to become a creature of new daily habits. I hiked more miles in consecutive days than I had ever done, often finishing between 15 to 20 hard miles a day. My feet were swollen with blisters and I had a hamstring that constantly nagged me with pain. I even had a close encounter with a snake that tried to strike me. Sometimes at the end of the day I found myself longing for someone to take care of me and consider my needs. The amount of independence and giving that was required of me was beginning to exhaust me.

Along with everything else, I was responsible for taking photos and video while on the hike. The trick to this was to not get in the way or allow photo taking to become annoying. I felt compelled to capture everything I could. I focused not only Jen, but the Pit Crew in action, the places I saw and people I met. The more I shot, the more accurate I became and was faced with all the challenges a photographer on the go would face, such as: poor weather, elements, bad lighting and one chance opportunities to get a good shot.

 I was determined to get some strong photos and was willing to put up with just about anything to do so. At one location I had a standoff of will with flesh eating black flies while waiting for Jen to roll by. I was miserable and wanted to crawl back to the safe refuge of a car, but I convinced myself to stay. I promised myself it would be worth it in the end, no matter how broken down I felt. I would later learn how my persistence and patience would pay off because that photo was used for an article that was written about Jen in the New York Times. Every blood blistered bite was worth it in my book.

I would go through hundreds of images daily, downloading and emailing a selection of photos to Jen’s publicist for the blog. I found myself becoming well adjusted with my equipment and I became more intimately connected with my artistic side. I loved how natural it felt to move and shoot and that gave me a sense of familiarity of my Self.

Although I truly enjoyed being part of the Pit Crew my time came to an end in Palmerton Pennsylvania. I had spent 3 weeks on the road and trail and almost made it to the halfway point on the A.T. I was very ready to be reunited with my husband and dog. To assist and photographically document such an intimate moment in Jen and Brew’s life left a trail of experience I will carry for my lifetime. I accomplished many personal bests and pushed through hard times even when I doubted myself and wanted to quit. I tapped into creative talents I didn't know I had and I became a stronger and more confident wild woman of the woods. For me the trail is a place of wonder, beauty and self discovery and only time will tell if I shall ever revisit for another go around.