Trail Magic & Tapping Trees
By Susan Allen â09, â14

By Susan Allen â09, â14
Thereâs a place on Earth where everyone is rooting for everyone elseâs success, age doesnât matter, no one is judging appearances and thereâs an equal playing field for all.
Ryan Hegarty â21, an Environmental Studies graduate who is now a research assistant for the Stockton Maple Project, visited this place, the Appalachian Trail (AT), last year. The journey changed his life.
The AT spans 5 million steps through 14 states with an elevation gain equivalent to summiting Mount Everest 16 times and itâs the worldâs longest hiking-only footpath.
Some days reminded him of Christmas as he hiked through spruce forest. Other days, he wore a sweat-drenched shirt that never dried as he battled a heat wave through Vermont. Fresh strawberries never tasted sweeter as he devoured them sitting in the parking lot of a grocery store with all he needed to survive fitting into a backpack.âŻ
Only 25% of through-hikers â those attempting to hike an established trail end-to-end âcomplete the trail. The challenge made him want to lace up his hiking boots even more.
The simplistic lifestyle also called to him. âThere were no emails, meetings or traffic. I was totally disconnected,â he said.
He grew up in Pennsylvania 90 minutes from an entrance to the AT and loved exploring the great outdoors as far back as he can remember. Hiking all 2,197.4 miles became a dream.âŻ
âEvery through-hiker you meet is so happy and enjoying life so much,â he said. He decided he wasnât going to just listen to all the great stories. He wanted to step into his own story, and he wasnât waiting until retirement.
During the maple sugaring offseason, he took a leave from work to enter the trail in Pennsylvania for a flip-flop through-hike. On Memorial Day he headed north to Mount Katahdin in Maine. Then, heâd return home to hike to Springer Mountain where the trail ends in Georgia.
The Latin name for red maple, the most common tree that Hegarty taps on Stocktonâs campus, is Acer rubrum. Acer means rugged. Acer with an o, Acero, became Hegartyâs trail name.
He reached the northern terminus, completing the first 970 miles through seven states, on July 24, 2024. His dad and brother met him in Acadia, and he returned home to begin his southbound hike.
Although he was far from Stocktonâs maple grove, he discovered that life on the trail had striking similarities.
The weather dictates everything, and he learned that âsimple doesnât mean easy.â
âIf it was a rainy day, I had to embrace it. You learn quickly that you have to embrace the uncertainty and the unexpected. Every day was different on the trail,â he said.
In theory, tapping a tree to harvest and boiling sap into syrup sounds simple. But the weather doesnât always cooperate.
If it was a rainy day, I had to embrace it. You learn quickly that you have to embrace the uncertainty and the unexpected. Every day was different on the trail."Ryan Hegarty '21
Sap doesnât flow until there is a freeze-and-thaw cycle. Configuring the spider web of blue tubing that connects the tapped trees to a vacuum pump for collection requires creativity and hard work.
For example, he suited up in waders and crawled through a storm drain to extend the vacuum tube to a new section of forest as the adopt-a-tree program grows.
âWhen youâre hiking the trail, youâre spending long hours talking with the people that youâre around and building a community. Itâs kind of like the Maple Project when you spend hours sitting around the fire boiling the sap and sharing stories,â he explained.âŻ
Most through-hikers start their journey in Georgia in the spring, so when Hegarty got back to the trail in August to head south, he didnât cross paths with as many hikers, many already above Pennsylvania.âŻ
In mid-September, he and a fellow hiker started tracking a developing storm off the Gulf Coast and decided to get off the trail to be safe.
âWe thought the storm would pass and weâd be back in a few days. We woke up to an apocalypse,â he recalled.
That apocalypse was Hurricane Helene.
Two days before the storm hit, Hegarty had stayed at Uncle Johnnyâs Hostel in Tennessee, which was flattened, and walked over the bridge that crosses the Nolichucky River, which washed away.
âSome of the towns I had just walked through got destroyed like Damascus, Roan Mountain and Erwin. You think about all the people you just met and their communities. It was devastating. You think about all the other thru hikers. There was no cell service after the hurricane to even check in,â he said.
Hegarty witnessed the wrath of Hurricane Sandy that destroyed his familyâs New Jersey home, but Helene was different. âThis was the first inland hurricane I experienced,â he said.
Hegartyâs through-hike ended just shy of Hot Springs, N.C. After sheltering at a friendâs house in Ashville, he made his way home, but he plans to return to finish the last 320 miles.
The hike inspired him âto continue to do the things that fill me with pride and joy.â
On the trail, he wrote in a journal daily. The first entries were short and noted mileage, weather conditions and what he ate. As the miles added up, his entries began to lengthen with stories of new friendships, wildlife encounters and best days.
As he paged through the entries, he smiled at how many he labeled as "best days." Each day kept getting better.
The best part of the AT hike wasnât a specific state or scenic view for Hegarty.
âYou have countless memories where complete strangers, out of the goodness of their heart, offered hot or cold beverages, offered a place to stay, a ride into town,â he said.
He calls it âtrail magic.â
âItâs someone set up in a parking lot with their trunk open full of banana bread, protein bars and Gatorade. Coolers full of drinks set up as water caches in super dry areas where thereâs a 20-mile stretch with no water. Itâs the community aspect,â he said.âŻ
Four pairs of shoes and 1,877.4 miles later, the kindness of strangers ârestored my faith in humanity,â he said.