An appreciation
Beloved ‘Gran-Ma Soule’ has died
By Bill O’Brien
Sept. 6, 2007
I am trying to remember the first time I ever met Verna Soule. A quiet, unassuming person, she had a way of coming up on you while hiking, as though she were always there, and seemed to be ever present, not up front but in the middle rows, at trail reunions and conferences. She would always make a point to say hello.
Known to everyone on the Appalachian Trail as "Gran-Ma Soule," Verna died yesterday at age 82 at her home in Michigan Center, Mich., after a long bout with cancer. It was a journey she tackled with her characteristic honesty, tempered with that can-do attitude that helped propel her up and down the mountains of America. I struck up a correspondence with her when news first surfaced that she was ill. She wasn’t able to write as often, but when she did, it was pure "Gran-Ma Soule."
"I’m doing okay some days," she wrote back in March. "I have severe pain then some days I feel so good I could forget I have cancer. I just take one day at a time."
Although this year is the 20th anniversary of her thru-hike on the Appalachian Trail, it seems she was out there hiking, on one trail or another, every single year, starting with her first long-distance hike on the A.T. in 1979. She hiked every major trail in Michigan, including a thru-hike of the Superior Hiking Trail and two end-to-end hikes of the Michigan Shore-to-Shore Trail. In between her section hikes, she also added thru-hikes of the Sheltowee Trace from Kentucky to Tennessee, the Finger Lakes Trail in New York, the Grand Canyon Trail in Arizona and the Long Trail in Vermont, which she thru-hiked in 1989 and again in 1990. It was her 1990 hike on the Long Trail that brought her to the attention of folks beyond the trails she had walked. Lynne Whelden filmed her and three other "older" thru-hikers, all in their 60s, to produce the movie "27 Days: A Backpacking Adventure on Vermont’s Long Trail." [See photo above for the cover shot off the video, which shows Verna, Dan Jones (center) and Joe Anastasia at the northern terminus of the Long Trail on the U.S.-Canada border.] Whelden followed their every step on that 270-mile trail and captured the dry wit and seasoned wisdom of their words. For years afterward, people would come up to Verna at ALDHA Gatherings and other hiker get-togethers just to meet the thru-hiking grandmother from that movie. In the year 2000, and now a great-grandma, Verna set out, as she often did, from Springer Mountain in Georgia to hike the A.T., but this time she aimed to do another end-to-end hike, which at age 75 would have made her the oldest woman to have ever thru-hiked it. But when she reached Vermont, more than 1,600 miles into her journey, she had to leave the trail because she had contracted Lyme disease. That was pretty much the end of her long-distance hiking adventures, but not bad for a 21-year run. She first took up backpacking when the last of her four children had graduated from high school. After getting Lyme disease, she continued with shorter hikes, including one from the Ohio line to Mackinac Bridge at age 78, until she became ill with cancer, her local paper reported. "I kind of wanted to be one of the oldest women to hike the trail. That was in my mind," she told The Citizen Patriot. "But that wasn’t the only reason I did it. I love being out there. There is so much beauty on the trail, and the hikers are like a family."
IN 1992, during my last thru-hike of the A.T., Verna managed to catch up to me and my hiking partner in Pennsylvania. It was a typically wicked scorcher of a day, and we had seen "Gran-Ma Soule" somewhere in the Cumberland Valley, a low-lying stretch of roads and farm fields that can just radiate heat. We chatted briefly and headed onward. I was sure that by the time we had reached our shelter for the night, there was no way we would be seeing "Gran-Ma" for a few hours. I promptly set up my water bag with the shower hose attachment near the shelter, stripped naked and just stood there, in full view of nature, cooling off under the spray.
That instant, here comes "Gran-Ma Soule." My untanned hiker-white skin turned red from embarrassment, but to her credit, this veteran mom, grandma and thru-hiker just passed by as though she were looking at another squirrel. What confounded me the most, I have to confess, was how the heck she was able to keep up with us all day, in that grueling heat. AND, to top it off, she was toting a bag of water, which she must have hauled up a long hill from somewhere in the valley. For years afterward, whenever I saw Verna, she never kidded me about that incident. However, my hiking partner, Andrew Sam, has never let the memory of that disaster slip by without at least one good-natured ribbing. I ran into Verna on the trail again the following year, during one of two short hikes in early spring with either Henry Edwards or Laurence McDuff -- my memory is bad and I apologize but I think it was the hike with Henry. When I saw her, I have to admit I was only partially surprised to see her out there yet again, trudging northward. "How far do you hope to go this year?" I asked in an amazingly moronic moment. "Oh, as far as I can. We’ll see," came her reply. Pure "Gran-Ma Soule." Not so worried about the final destination, just the journey. And dang it if she wasn’t toting another bag of water! Most hikers get by while hiking with just a Nalgene bottle and later fill up a bigger bag when they get to their campsite for the night. I asked her about it this time, and her reply, simply, was that she decided to fill up when she saw good water. Then she kept on hiking, water bag in tow. "That was where the water was." ... Pure "Gran-Ma." In March of this year, she wrote that she was looking forward to spring and watching her flowers grow. She enjoyed hearing from hikers she had met over the years and wanted to know how my hiking pal Andrew was doing. For much of the year, I tried to drop her a line when I could. Ironically, the last one I wrote was Sunday, and with the Labor Day holiday, I doubt she could’ve gotten it in time. But as I sat down to write, I sort of had a feeling it would be the last time, so I was a little more philosophical and told her there were lots of people in her extended trail family keeping her in their prayers. I know what a comfort it was to her to have her immediate family there for support. She wrote of them often, particularly her great-grandchildren. One of them, at the age of 8, took part in a polar bear plunge this past winter and raised $100 for cancer research. "I was so proud of him," Verna wrote.
"I also have another great-grandson who is in track. He always comes in last but he crosses the finish line smiling and urging his teammates on."
In a way, he takes after his great-grandmother. It’s not how we finish, it’s how we get there. ... Pure "Gran-Ma."
Verna is survived by her husband of 59 years, Kenneth; daughters Roberta Showerman, Joyce Soule and Kim Cole; son Rick; six sisters, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and a great-great granddaughter. Her funeral will be at 11 a.m. Saturday at Nichols-Arthur Funeral Home, 820 Fifth St., Michigan Center, MI 49254. Those ALDHA members wishing to send condolences to Ken and the family may do so using the East Grove Street address in the Directory, or in care of the funeral home.
