Disasters, trails, and trauma
This week, I’ve been reading the news of hurricane Helene’s devastation in the southern Appalachians, and especially western North Carolina, with increasing concern. My mother’s family hails from Bakersville, NC which was hit particularly hard. Bakersville is one of many towns nestled in the hollers of these mountains. It’s about an hour’s drive from Roan Mountain. While I currently have no immediate family in the area, I nevertheless feel this region and its people in my blood. The southern Appalachians have remained among my favorite places to hike. Although they do not have the awe-inspiring peaks and amazing vistas of the Rockies and Cascades, they have, perhaps by virtue of being much older, a kind of quiet gentle wisdom that is particularly felt when resting by a mountain stream coursing through a cool rhododendron and laurel jungle. I believe this peacefulness brings a healing force that many of us seek when we take to the trails to nourish our mental and physical health.
Yet, at the time of this writing, the Appalachian Trail is unofficially closed from its southern end at Springer Mountain to the southern end of the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. That’s almost 40% of the trail. So, a valuable mental health resource for many is suddenly gone.
At the same time, many of the trail towns that have supported hikers so enthusiastically are now devastated. This support has come partly from the businesses that have sprung up for, or adapted to, the needs of hikers. It has also come in the many random acts of kindness from strangers, such as the workman who gives a hiker a ride back to the trail while on his way to a job on the other side of the mountain.
I’ve been hiking large sections of the AT on and off for the past 38 years. I am often amused at how the relationship between AT hikers and these towns has developed during that time. My mother told me that when she was growing up they would sometimes see hikers crossing a road (probably US 19-E near Roan Mountain). They assumed these were homeless people and treated them with suspicion. Back in the 80’s and 90’s, word on the trail was to stay out of Erwin, TN. Now Erwin has a reputation as one of the friendliest towns on the trail. But today, the bridge over the Nolichucky River is gone. There were several deaths attributed to the storm. Patients at the hospital had to be evacuated by helicopter from the roof.
So, it’s a certainty that the people in these communities will be dealing with mental health issues. These issues will last decades after the towns are rebuilt. The link between disasters and PTSD is well-documented. I recently came across an article on how death rates in areas hit by natural disasters remain elevated for decades after the event. The study drew no firm conclusions for the correlation, but it did note that many of these deaths are due to cancer and heart disease which are known to be exacerbated by stress. One study funded by the Brain and Behavior Research Foundation examined the link between childhood trauma and later development of personality disorders.
One of the most effective therapies for patients with PTSD is EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). In particular, EMDR has been successfully used in areas that have suffered natural disasters. One component of this therapy is tapping; for example tapping with your fingers on your arms or shoulders. While not completely understood, it is conjectured that tapping helps the mind to reprocess traumatic memories by engaging the mind in bilateral stimulation; this means, roughly, getting the two sides of the brain to communicate with each other. Walking also results in bilateral stimulation as our two legs are controlled by opposite sides of our brain.
Not too long ago, I read Ben Montgomery’s biography of Grandma Gatewood, the first woman to solo thru-hike the Appalachian Trail. I would argue she was also the first ultra-lighter, carrying only about 17 pounds of gear in a denim sack. I’ve known about Gatewood’s accomplishments since I was a child, maybe soon after my first footsteps on the trail. But, prior to reading Montgomery’s book, I was unaware of the horrific abuse Gatewood endured during her marriage. After her divorce, she hiked over 10,000 miles. Montgomery observes, “To suggest she was trying to be the first woman means believing she was walking towards something. I’m not sure that’s wholly true. I’m not sure she was walking towards something so much as walking away.” I wonder if hiking was perhaps in part her EMDR therapy.
So now, I’m circling back to the role these trails and communities play in the support of mental health, and how now they themselves are facing the challenges of trauma. They will first require assistance with basic needs such as shelter, clothing, clean water, and food. One way you can help is by contributing to the North Carolina Disaster Relief Fund. One of my favorite organizations, Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association (ALDHA) has established a relief fund for hostels damaged by the flood; donate here. These communities have done so much for so many of us. As much as each of us can, we now really need to support them.