Married to the Long Trail, And Then to Each Other
By Nicole Vincent-Roller

It all started with a broken-down Jeep.

In June of 2003, Ron Kovanic’s car was having problems, and he needed to get it to his friend in the Northeast Kingdom for repairs.

"I just kind of thought, maybe I’ll take my jeep up, and maybe I’ll see if Marilyn will come along with me." Kovanic didn’t just ask Marilyn Williams along so he’d have a ride back home to Randolph after he dropped his Jeep off. He wanted company on the northernmost stretch of the Long Trail.

Three years, 272 miles, and one wedding later, Kovanic and Williams became two of the hundred and fifty hikers to complete the Long Trail last year.

Of those hundred and fifty, some hikers completed the trail in one fell swoop, hiking from shelter to shelter over the course of 20 to 30 days. Others, like Williams and Kovanic, are working around full-time jobs, and must learn to shuttle to and from day-hikes in two cars on days off over a period of months or years—three years, in their case.

"That really was the biggest downside of the way we did it," said Williams, "having to drive separately, and drive so much."

Whether you’re a weekend warrior or an end-to-ender, hiking the Long Trail is a huge time commitment, and during that time many hikers form an attachment to the trail that can be hard to end at the terminus.

"It's an old truism, I guess," quips an anonymous hiker on the Green Mountain Club’s website, "the enjoyment is in the going more than in the goal."

A Goal Is Good

Not altogether true for Williams and Kovanic.

"There was a goal to finish it. If there wasn’t that goal, there were days we wouldn’t have gone. It’s absolutely key," said Williams in an interview this summer.

This sense of purpose helped motivate the pair through conditions that were sometimes less than ideal. In the summer, a rainstorm can come out of nowhere, soaking hikers who have miles to go and reducing the trail to a mud-slide. In the fall, temperatures combine with high elevations to make for potentially dangerous weather conditions.

"I don’t think we were ever in any huge danger," said Williams of one such hike in November of 2004, when the pair got caught out in a freezing rain. "But it does make you feel your vulnerability."

It’s not surprising, then, that only a select few complete the trail each year, nor that Kovanic and Williams had difficulty finding company on their trek. "It would have been nice to have another couple along," said Williams, "but it was hard to find people who were interested."

One of the few times that the pair did manage to corral some company, the day played out like a cautionary tale about the risks of hiking. One friend fell and badly bruised his ribs, while the other hurt her elbow.

"They looked like revolutionary war soldiers, hiking down from the hills," said Kovanic. "We just looked at each other and said, boy, they’re never coming with us again."

Diabolical Plot?

But the marriage license the two contracted two-thirds of the way through their trip would tell you they weren’t really suffering for a lack of company.

"I think I had a diabolical plan to get married to her, and she wasn’t aware of it yet," Kovanic said of his initial invitation to the Northeast Kingdom. The two spent their three years on the trail getting to know each other, and getting to know Vermont.

"We both knew how beautiful this state was, but being out on the trail really heightened that awareness," said Kovanic. The couple enjoyed spotting the local wildlife, stirring up tens of grouse some days, and looking out for bigger animals.

"We never saw any moose," Williams said. "We saw lots of—" she paused, searching for a suitable euphemism, "—evidence, of moose, but never the animal itself."

"You learn so much about the area," said Williams. "We’d be walking from one end of some small town to the other, saying, you know, I didn’t even know this place existed, or I’ve heard of it but I had no idea where it was."

Not every area was so unfamiliar, though. The last leg of the trip brought them into North Adams, Mass., Williams’ hometown

. "That was nice," she said of the that day last June, "coming down into the place where I grew up." The couple celebrated the completion of their journey with ice cream and a couple of long sighs. There was a feeling of elation, of accomplishment.

"We were both really glad we did it," said Kovanic. "We were also really glad to be done. But then we missed it, too. Kind of like, now what?"

Once More, with Skis!

They weren’t left wondering for long. The winter before they finished the trail they began working their way through the Catamount Trail on skis, and are hoping for enough snow in the coming seasons so that they might be able to finish it in the next two years.

They’re also working their way up the Appalachian Trail, with only one section in Vermont left to go, and with retirement nearing for both of them in the next few years, this is only the beginning.

Though they haven’t been back to the Long Trail since they completed it, the trail certainly hasn’t felt the last of their footsteps.

"We think," Williams said, with only a slight uncertainty in her emphasis on the word, "that we’d like to backpack it from end to end after we retire."

And though the pair enjoyed the quiet that most of the trail provides, they wouldn’t mind seeing a few more hikers along the way. "We’d recommend it," Williams said, "we’d really encourage people to get out there."

"Anyone that likes to hike, you just have to try it. Try it, and if you like it, just keep going," said Kovanic as Williams nodded agreement. Sitting side-by-side at the dinner table, tracing past and future projects on the map spread out before them, the two seem to be a proof of the principle in practice.