Taking Care of (Backcountry) Business

By Vinnie Spiotti

That afternoon, I arrived at the AMC's Liberty Springs Campsite, one of the busiest and largest backcountry facilities on the Appalachian Trail. Children sitting on the trail watched me intently as I entered the caretaker's tent. I overheard them say how "cool" it must be to live in the mountains in a big tent. Was it? That's what I hoped to find out.

Until that day, my experiences had always taken place on the outside of that tent, as a young backcountry camper there to enjoy the outdoors with my friends for a night. But tonight I was on the inside, as the backcountry caretaker who hosted hikers following their trek up the mountain. I had volunteered to relieve the regular caretaker, Brett Harvey, and his back-up, Donald Emerson, to attend the annual caretaker summer meeting. They engage in a kind of backcountry job-share arrangement, which means they don't see each other but communicate through their entries in the shelter's logbook.

It was that logbook by the bed that caught my eye when I entered my temporary canvas home. Tucked within its pages, I found Brett's note, thanking me for volunteering and giving me a few instructions.

Of course, those weren't the only preparations I received from an experienced caretaker. Earlier in the week, Jack Coughlin, one of the backcountry coordinators, conducted a training program for substitutes like me. Jack talked about "site management" and how important it was to know the site and talk with all the visitors. With this in mind, I grabbed a fleece and took a walk around the site. I wanted to see everything as described on the map that Jack gave me.

I familiarized myself with the water source, tent platforms, and outhouse composting facilities. I found the dishwashing area, spent a few minutes at the scenic viewpoint, and studied the well-hidden overflow sites. I wanted to be familiar with the site so I could give good service, information, and directions to my guests. Funny, there was a time when as a kid I barely wanted to hear directions of any kind at one of these sites. Now, I was responsible for making sure that others understood the importance of them.

Educating the Masses
As the guests arrived, I found families, couples, and other groups of hikers under my care for the night. The groups of younger guys reminded me of my friends with whom I had camped so often but now rarely see. I spent quality time with each group of campers, making sure they each found the correct platform, knew the layout of the site, and understood how their actions could help minimize impact on the land. With each conversation, I discovered more of the teacher coming out in me. Our talks weren't about explaining rules and regulations of the site; they were about educating people, which has a much greater long-term effect.

Soon enough, a camp group arrived at the site. As the group guides completed the paperwork at my tent platform, I spoke with the group about respecting others and the outdoors. I covered all the important points about using the site and Leave No Trace principles. It's interesting to me that both adults and children already know these principles that are grounded in backcountry common sense. In our question and answer session, a child told me that I should make a million dollars because I had to climb the mountain to get to my job. If he only knew that I had volunteered.

Summer's Silent night
Night fell and the campers retired, all to their various tent platforms. I felt so alone. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a peaceful moment, whether at home or in the forest, but how do Brett and Donald cope with this feeling? In the tent, I could see that they packed away a few diversions — travel books and a guitar. But were those bits of entertainment enough? Maybe the tranquility was one of the job's attractions. Maybe its greatest hardship wasn't the physical labor or the public service, but the twilight time spent alone. Suddenly I missed my dog.

I sat in the fading light outside of my tent, drank my tea, and paged through the logbook a bit more. I don't know Brett or Donald, but I gained a great deal of insight into their world from their entries to each other. Their initial discussions were very business like; shop talk always came first. But as their messages continued, so their friendship grew. They began to discuss their hobbies, time off from work, and even the people they met at work.

The bulk of their communications, though, was about their work around the camp. They maintained trails, built rock and "scree" walls, and made seemingly never-ending adjustments to the paths and walkways around the site. They left each other project lists and updates of the work they each accomplished. As I read I realized that they were truly stewards of the environment. Their work went beyond education and recreation; it was conservation too.

In conjunction with conservation efforts, AMC backcountry facilities are also very concerned with resources and systems. Drinking water, wastewater, revegetation, and the management of human waste are a few of the more prevalent issues. The journal bore witness to these concerns: One section's dialogue between Brett and Donald focused on the composting toilet, from temperatures to compost consistency. The irony of the discussion was their deep concern for a substance that most people avoid. These conservation aspects of their job are extremely important, though undoubtedly not the most pleasant.

Dawning of Day
Just about dawn I heard footsteps outside the tent. I jumped up and walked out on the porch to find one of the young men who was here with his friends. He told me he was the early riser in his group and was just walking around as the others slept. He was from Cleveland and worked in his family's Italian grocery store. He and his friends looked forward to their annual hiking trip all summer. Normally they went to Maine. This was their first time in the White Mountains and they were anxious to explore the high peaks. I could relate: My friends and I years ago would look forward to our trips all summer and talk about them all the following year until our next excursion.

The rest of the morning left little time for further reminiscing. First, I received the weather report on the two-way radio and posted it for the guests. Next, I contacted the shelter coordinator at the appointed time to "check in." Then it was time to walk the site again, saying goodbye to those who were heading out and good morning to others who were staying another evening. One of my surprises as a caretaker was how much time I had available to chat with people and help them plan their outdoor adventures. I felt somewhat like a backcountry concierge.

Concierge Checks Out
My time as a caretaker was soon over. As I packed my things and prepared to make my way down the trail, I added the final touches to an ongoing note I had been writing to Brett and Donald. I thanked them for their hospitality and direction, and for allowing me the opportunity to enjoy their workplace for a day. I ended my journal entry with this paragraph:

After one night, it is apparent to me that the service you provide to visitors and the environment is invaluable. We appreciate that you are who you are where you are. With all the important work that you do for people and the outdoors, you will someday look back on these days and smile.

I knew I would. My time spent at Liberty gave me the chance to help and to interact with people in a "point-of-hike" way, instead of my usual job at the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center where the hikes and trails are often not so near at hand. I learned about our backcountry staff and their critical role in helping people enjoy the mountains.

By the time I had descended the mountain and could see my car, I had a greater understanding of the lives of AMC caretakers and a greater appreciation for my own. I couldn't wait to get back home to my house, my loved ones, and my dog.

—Vinnie Spiotti is the Manager of the AMC's Highland Center at Crawford Notch. In addition to his duties at Pinkham, he serves as the president of the Twin Mountain/Bretton Woods Chamber of Commerce and is an adjunct faculty member at Lyndon State College. He has been with the AMC since 1995.