Doug Woods has been fascinated with the Appalachian Trail for nearly six decades, ever since a family camping trip to the Smoky Mountains when he was a kid. While they were walking, his mother pointed to a white blaze on a tree and told him the trail ran all the way to Maine.

“It just kind of stuck in my head,” Woods said.

For years, the idea resurfaced now and then, something he talked about but never had the time to pursue. Work and family made the logistics of a five- or six-month hike unrealistic. “Kids didn’t work,” Woods said. “I’m just gonna take five, six months?”

Last month, that changed. Woods retired.

By the time this article reaches readers, Woods will be on a plane headed to Georgia, where he plans to begin a northbound hike of the Appalachian Trail, a roughly 2,200-mile journey from Springer Mountain to Mount Katahdin in Maine.

Woods describes the trek in practical terms. He calls it “the toughest trail on the East Coast” and is well aware of the odds. 

Each year, thousands of people attempt to hike the trail, and only a small percentage finish. Earlier this year, Woods attended a hiker workshop in Virginia, where participants laid out their gear and instructors went through it piece by piece.

“The first day there, they said, most likely, you’re not going to finish,” Woods said. “And I’m okay with it.”

What draws him is not what he expects to gain. “To gain from it? Nothing, really,” he said. “Just, I can do it, and I’m able to do it.”

It’s all about training

Long efforts are not new to Woods. Though he says he was never a runner, Woods trained for a marathon and finished it. He later went on to complete several more, treating each as another challenge. He has also completed a cross-country motorcycle trip on the TransAmerica Trail, a mostly dirt route stretching from North Carolina to Oregon. Those experiences, he said, taught him as much about logistics and pacing as endurance.

At home in Callicoon Center, Woods owns and operates Trees of the Woods, a small farm that has shifted into a pick-your-own operation. He currently grows pumpkins and strawberries and is close to bringing an apple crop online, with plans to add blueberries later. Retirement, he said, does not mean slowing down. 

“I’ll work the farm,” Woods said. “I’m not gonna sit around and do nothing.”

Training for the trail has become part of his routine. For months, Woods has been going to the gym three or four nights a week. On his property, he cut a 2.2-mile loop with switchbacks, steep sections, and stream crossings. He marked it with white blazes and walks it every day, often twice, carrying a weighted pack.

“It’s just like a miniature trail,” he said.

Woods’ main concern is not wildlife or isolation, but resupply. He estimates he will need about two pounds of food per day and expects to rely heavily on dehydrated meals and basic staples. Getting to town every five to seven days to restock, he said, will be one of the more complicated parts of the hike.

“You have to get 20 miles off the trail,” Woods said. “Find yourself a ride, get the food, and get back on the trail.”

Woods’s first challenge will be overcoming the lingering effects of last week’s snowstorm, which left much of the country, including parts of Georgia, blanketed in snow and ice.

He is also realistic about injury. Woods said one knee already gives him trouble, and he knows that small issues can escalate when compounded over daily mileage.

 “It’s like the littlest thing that goes wrong,” he said. “It’s going to flare.”

He plans to start slowly, hiking eight to 10 miles a day, and adjust as his body responds. He expects his pack to lighten once winter gear can be sent home and believes the trail itself will condition him over time. 

Mind over matter

Woods describes the Appalachian Trail as “a big mind game” and said many hikers quit within the first 100 miles. One rule he plans to follow closely is simple. 

“Never quit on a bad day,” he said. “If you’re gonna quit, quit on a good day.”

During his earlier cross-country motorcycle trip, Woods learned that endurance is as much about restraint as it is determination. The ride, which stretched thousands of miles across remote terrain, taught him the cost of pushing too hard for too long. Woods said he watched other riders refuse to take rest days, determined to keep moving no matter how fatigued they became. By the end of the trip, he recalled, they weren’t enjoying the experience anymore —  they just wanted it to be over.

Woods took a different approach. He said he made a point of stopping regularly, even when he felt strong, taking a full day off each week to recover. That lesson now shapes how he plans to hike the Appalachian Trail. Rather than racing the miles, Woods said he intends to pace himself, listen to his body, and build in breaks along the way—a strategy he believes is essential for sustaining a journey measured not in days or weeks, but in months.

That philosophy will also shape how Woods handles moments when the trail passes close to home. 

When he reaches the stretch near High Point, New Jersey, Woods plans to step off the Appalachian Trail briefly and return to his farm in Callicoon Center to help plant pumpkins. 

The timing, he said, is non-negotiable: planting happens when it happens, regardless of where he is on the trail.

Woods said he views the stop not as a setback, but as part of the journey itself. After a few days of work at home, he plans to return to the trail and continue north. 

Eyes on the prize

What happens between now and Maine, Woods said, is largely unknowable. Over a hike expected to last months, he knows details will slip away. 

“After three months or so, you’re not going to remember what you did the first few days,” he said. He plans to keep a journal to document the hike as it happens, day by day.

When asked to imagine reaching the summit of Mount Katahdin at the end of the trail, Woods said the moment would likely be emotional. After nearly 60 years of dreaming about the Appalachian Trail, he expects it to feel even more fulfilling than completing his first marathon. 

“This is 60 years,” Woods said. “I’m sure I’m going to be a wreck when I hit the finish.”

As he works his way north, mile by mile, The Democrat will continue sharing Woods’ story.