Editor's note: Tom Cowan and I were stationed together here at Coast Guard Headquarters about 10 years ago. During that time, I knew him in his official capacity in the world of public affairs as “Master Chief” (of course!), but at his retirement in 2013, it was amazing to see the amount of people who came out of the woodwork—many of them outside the PA world—to attend. As I later learned, Tom’s work as a gold badge (on active duty and as a reservist) was well respected across the Coast Guard, and his gentle, uplifting influence was a familiar thread in both his civilian and military careers. When he made the trek up the East Coast along the Appalachian Trail earlier this year, many people took notice and followed along via social media, including me. S hoes, check. Stove, check. Soap? Weighs too much. Pocket knife, check. Enough sugar and carbs to last 75 miles or so, check. Weigh the pack. Take a few things out. Repack. Re-weigh. Repeat. Every spring, around 3,000 hikers attempt to complete the Appalachian Trail, a 2,000 mile hike that passes through 14 states on the East Coast. Most of these people, called thru-hikers as opposed to those just going out for the day, begin in Georgia and finish in Maine, spending between 4-7 months to complete the trail. The hike itself can be treacherous, the gear required will vary constantly as the seasons change, and three out of four who attempt it won’t finish. Despite the steep odds, Tom Cowan, a retired Coast Guard master chief petty officer, had talked about it for years. His life had been spent between balancing two careers of service—35 years in the military and 35 years as a federal civilian with the military—and raising a family with his wife, Teri. When he finished his career in the Coast Guard Reserve in 2013 and his job with the Air Force in 2020, his son asked him if he really was going to do the Appalachian Trail. Moment of truth. “I knew I’d told too many people to back out,” he said with a laugh. Cowan’s a tall, lanky type, constantly on the move with road races, but 2,000 miles would test even the strongest resolve. But he was glad he’d kept in shape through all his years working in and with the military, and he was looking forward to a new challenge. 24 RESERVIST � Issue 4 • 2021 “I call it the delayed gratification plan,” Cowan said, half joking, half not. “I’ve always had these things I wanted to do, and I put them off. Now that I’m retired, I felt I need to start doing the things I’ve dreamed about. I don’t have an excuse—I can’t say it’s work anymore.” He set a date, stowed his essentials in a pack that weighed over 30 pounds, and flew with Teri to Atlanta. She drove him to the trail head at Springer Mountain, Georgia, March 22. “And I started walking.” Appalachian Trail (or AT) hikers know that last sentence could fill months. But at his very first stop on the trail, Cowan happened upon the one person he’d hike alongside more than any. Jacqui Johnson, a teacher from Pennsylvania, was also testing her resolve for long distance hikes, in preparation for doing more of them in the future with her partner, John, who thru-hiked the AT in 2017. Johnson had also picked March 22 as her first day on the trail, and was eager to get going. While many of the hikers at the first stop gathered to chat and relax, she noticed Cowan heading out early the next morning, and the two drew on each other’s momentum, keeping a good pace and keeping each other company. “Tom was a lot of my trail family,” Johnson said, referring to the term thru-hikers use when referring to the people they spend time with most. Though much of the day can be spent hiking alone, hikers in the same trail family share their plans, rides, and resources with others, forming a social and safety network.
