I’m not one to look backwards but sometimes circumstances force me to think about the past, in this case several parts of my past.

I’ve been going through Lenny’s stuff.

My late husband was not a packrat by today’s definition but he left some items that he should have discarded years ago. That includes an old analog altimeter. This gives the altitude based on barometric pressure, without batteries or satellite reception.

I donated almost of his stuff to Goodwill but I don’t think the charity can use specialized hiking gear. Though I said I wasn’t going to do this, I’m spending time and effort to give away his hiking gear to the right places. But what to do with his altimeter?  It is only while writing this post that I learned that these altimeters are still sold.

Lenny’s old altimeter belongs in a museum, the Appalachian Trail museum, to be specific. But when I contacted the museum, they said that they would take it only if it had an A.T. story. So here’s one, a true story.

In the late 1960s, we joined Union County Hiking Club, based in northern New Jersey. We hiked locally – yes, there’s plenty of good hiking in Northern New Jersey and onto the New York border.

Eventually, we went on a trip to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. We were immediately taken by the possibilities of climbing the 48 mountains of the New Hampshire 4000 footers. Lenny always liked to keep lists and this was right up his alley. I got hooked as well and we finished all the mountains in 1978.

As we climbed, Lenny kept track of our progress with the altimeter. Most mountains were higher than 4,000 feet but it was good to know where we were and how much longer we had to go in ascent,

But while climbing some of these mountains, we realized that we were also hiking the Appalachian Trail. We stayed in the White Mountain huts, eight on the A.T. and we learned more about the Appalachian Trail. Again, Lenny started another box of index cards to keep our progress on the A.T.

The idea of walking the whole A.T. seemed ludicrous. We had jobs in large organizations that started us with two weeks of vacation. At the start, our son was a toddler. But somehow, we finished the A.T. in 1998. We never had a trail name, thinking that this was left to thru-hikers only. Besides, Lenny and Danny already sounded like a comedy team. Instead, we came up with a motto:

Georgia to Maine in 25 years

PS. If the A.T. museum doesn’t want the altimeter, it’s going to be recycled.