Su Joffrion celebrated her 61st birthday in the middle of a life-changing, 2,185-mile journey on the Appalachian Trail.

“One of the reasons I wanted to do this hike was my disenchantment with people. I wasn’t happy living in Baton Rouge with the skyrocketing gangs, crime and population,” said Joffrion, who moved to the Western Slope two years ago. “When I started the hike, I wasn’t looking for anything spiritual, but it certainly turned out that way in the end. It restored my faith in humanity.”

With a passion for adventure and the outdoors, but no backpacking and little camping experience, Joffrion admitted she had a lot to learn.

“It took me a year and a half to prepare and plan,” she said. “I read everything there was out there about the trail.”

Finding inspiration

Benton MacKaye, a pioneer in preservation and recreation, conceived the idea for the Appalachian Trail in 1921. Starting with the trailhead at Georgia’s Springer Mountain, it runs through 14 states and five national parks, ending at Mount Katahdin in Maine. The trail is managed by the National Park Service with the help of many trail clubs and nonprofits.

Since its completion in 1937, only 12,000 people have hiked the entire Appalachian Trail. Joffrion is one of them.

“The idea of long-distance hiking had always intrigued me, but I had too many responsibilities,” said Joffrion.

Joffrion was motivated by long-distance hiker Cheryl Strayed and her book, “Wild,” which recounted her experience hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. A woman known as Grandma Gatewood served as another source of inspiration.

Grandma Gatewood had 11 children and an abusive husband, and one day told her family that she was going for “a walk.” In 1955, she was the first woman to hike the Appalachian Trail solo.

From February 22, 2014, through September 17, 2014, Joffrion followed in her footsteps.

What’s in a name?

“No one on the trail goes by their real name, but by a trail name,” said Joffrion. “Mine was ‘Dallas,’ after a fictional character in a book series I read.”

She said that if she hadn’t picked her own name, fellow hikers probably would have called her “Falls-a-Lot.”

“I fell a lot. All the time—in streams, on concrete, slick rock, scree, over roots and down steep slopes,” she said. “I got bruises and scrapes but no major injuries.”

Joffrion even experienced “turtling,” falling backwards on her backpack with her arms and legs flailing.

Although she completed the journey solo, she briefly hiked beside others with names like Peace Seeker, Red Leg, Left Turn, Cambodia, Plan B, Tank and Time-to-Eat. Her closest relationship was with the 19-year-old Money Maker, who was raising research funds for a rare disease he inherited. She said they made an odd couple, but he was clumsy, too, and they reached the final marker in Maine together.

The journey

“It was a real fun feeling, having my husband and dog drive away from the Georgia trailhead, and thinking, ‘Oh, I’ve really done it now!’” said Joffrion. “I was a little pudgy, and the next time they saw me I had lost 30 pounds.”

Dehydrating most of her food, Joffrion had supporters send more than 20 re-supply boxes to her in small towns along the route. She fine tuned her backpack, whittling her load down from 50 pounds to just 35.

White blazes on the trees marked the trail, but Joffrion still got lost a few times. On one such misadventure, a herd of cattle began following her before she turned around.

She hiked in rain, snow, mud, wind and over challenging rocks. She hiked by Dismal Falls, Slaughter Creek and Blood Mountain. She opened one privy door only to have a snake fall out, and quickly headed for a bush.

Time, dates and the day of the week meant nothing. The milestones Joffrion checked off weren’t miles at all, but state lines. Hiking an average of 12-14 miles a day (on her longest jaunt, she hiked 22 miles), she went through 11 pairs of shoes. The trail became so technical at one point that it took her and Money Maker four hours to go one mile.

“I ate like you could not believe,” said Joffrion. “You get ravenous.”

She camped in a tent throughout most of the trip, but stayed in the occasional hostel or hotel to wait out weather, or for extra rest and a shower.

Part of the trail went through a historical building, and another section wound through a zoo. The sunrises, scenery, nature and wildlife were breathtaking.

“There were good days and bad days, but you just keep walking,” said Joffrion. “It becomes a mental challenge more than a physical challenge.”

Making friends

Distinguishing a “through hiker” from a day hiker was fairly easy. Day hikers still had the smell of soap on them. Through hikers were pretty ripe.

“The best part was that I made so many good friends that I’m still in touch with and will be friends with forever,” said Joffrion. “There was a true trail community, so I was never afraid. The young people out there were great. More than once, when I didn’t think I could hike to a destination, they said ‘I think you can,’ and I did.”

Unexpected acts of kindness along the hike are called “trail magic,” which extended from a bag of snacks or candy bars in a tree to a small-town spaghetti dinner to jugs of fresh water where it was scarce. The extraordinary people who extend helping hands to hikers are known as “trail angels.”

Joffrion’s favorite trail magic moment was an amazing cultural exchange with four Mennonite women who had followed her journal postings online. They took her into their home for the night, fed her and did her laundry.

“I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything,” said Joffrion, who now has her sights on the Colorado Trail and Pacific Crest Trail. “I would do it again in a heartbeat!”