For a night, a day, or maybe several days, hundreds of Appalachian Trail thru-hikers with fictitious names like "Pair O' Aces" and "Fly" will look out over the Green, do their laundry in town and sleep at Foley House in a real bed.
But for the greater part of six months, their lives are vastly different than those of Dartmouth students.
"Hiking the trail leaves you a lot of space where you don't have to deal with material things," Pair O' Aces said. "You're just a person without all your stuff."
Aces is a 21-year-old Maine native. He started the trail in Georgia with Fly, from New Hampshire. Their trail names were picked up early in the journey.
"Either you give yourself one, or you get one from other people," Fly, also 21, said.
"It's like a trail identity," said Little Squaw, 24, who joined the two in Tennessee.
But there is a lot more to be gained than a new name. The three hikers, along with C.R., a 43-year-old computer programmer from Georgia, said doing the trail was removed from anything they had ever imagined.
"For me, hiking the trail was a dream, and I didn't want to wait for it to happen," Squaw said. "You get the illness after you do it -- you just want to do it over and over."
"Some days you don't want to be out there because it's cold and wet and you're tired, but you keep going," Fly said.
All four spoke of the camaraderie between those traversing the trail, and of the generosity of people they met in towns along the way.
"Someone will just show up and buy you dinner or take you home," said Fly. "People call it Trail Magic."
"You meet a lot of townspeople," said Aces. "You see the different cultures from Georgia to Maine."
"It kind of puts faith back in the world and in people," added Squaw.
The hikers definitely have come in contact with people very unlike themselves. Earlier on the trail they met a man and woman on a day hike who were obviously from the city.
"We heard a white-tailed sparrow whistle, and [the woman] jumps and goes 'Was that a beeper?!' " said Aces. "I was all 'No, that's a bird.' You can take some people out of the city, but you can't take the city out them."
Hiking the A.T. is not without it's privations. 2,000-3,000 hikers started this year, C.R. said, and estimated that about 10 percent would make it to the end. Outside equipment, the journey is estimated to cost $2,166, a dollar a mile.
People carry 40- to 50-pound backpacks, which usually hold a tent, first aid kit, a water bottle and purifier, a stove and approximately two changes of clothes.
With these on their backs, hikers travel an average of 12 to 20 days, seeing towns and showering once a week at best.
The remainder of the time, they sleep in three-sided shelters, cooking on portable stoves. Hunger is a big concern, as Aces estimated they burn 7,000 to 8,000 calories per day.
"It's a great diet plan!" Squaw said, laughing.
Fly and Aces mentioned a place in Pennsylvania where hikers try out for the 'Half-Gallon Club," where hikers attempt to finish a half-gallon of ice cream in one sitting.
Aces made it, but Fly did not. "It was the flavor -- that makes all the difference!" she said. "I picked chocolate with peanut butter swirls and it was so heavy I couldn't finish."
Despite insects, colds, wetness and "butt chafe," the majority of hikers are retirees around age 55. The four said most people who take on the trail are at transition points in their lives, college graduates and retirees.
"Some people want to escape, because they're unhappy with their jobs or lives," C.R. said. "They enjoy hiking and this is the ultimate."
The trail runs from Georgia to Baxter State Park in Maine. Many hikers do parts at a time, eventually completing the trail.
In Hanover, many hikers stay at Foley House, which they hear of by word-of-mouth, although the Dartmouth Outing Club officially cannot recommend them to it. Panarchy and some affinity houses also offer lodgings, depending on the year.
The Appalachian Trail Conference keeps a record of all who complete it, whether it takes six months or ten years. C.R. did 800 miles last year, and expects to finish this time.
"This is supposed to be the hardest area," he said.
But well worth it. Aces described a climb they just took up an observation tower. "We could see four days back!" he said. "We've walked a ... long way."
After the long way, though, what has changed for hikers?The three younger will go back to school, and C.R. to his job, but all four said they would never see the country in the same way. The four recommended everyone trying it.
Optimism and pessimism mix after seeing so much.
"Doing the A.T. it's one line that has protected forest," said Fly. "Traveling up the east coast, you see what's going on with pollution, overpopulation and logging, instead of just reading about it. It's made me think a lot."
"On a lower level, you carry your trash and see how much you produce," said Aces. "You see how minimally you can live."
"Hiking this gives you a perspective of what the country's resources are," said C.R. "Used wisely, they could last for any generation."
