20. Creating a Thru-Hike and Conserving Our Trails with Rue McKenrick

In episode 20 of the Outdoor Minimalist Podcast, we will be discussing conservation and how that applies to our hiking trails.

We’ve talked about conservation pretty consistently on the show, but this will be a more in-depth look into how one conservation organization is creating a thru-hike, building community, and encouraging conservation action all across the US.

To help me discuss these topics, I had the pleasure of hosting Rue McKenrick.

Rue McKenrick is a professional backpacker, triple crowner, and avid hiker. He now calls Bend, OR home, but grew up in Pennsylvania and hiked in the Appalachians as a teen. Rue’s long distance backpacking began with the Appalachian Trail in 2003.

From there, he took on the Pacific Crest Trail (2005) and Continental Divide Trail (2007), completing the triple crown. In 2004, Rue thru-hiked the Pinhotti Trail and the Long Trail, then onto the John Muir Trail in 2016l. Spending yet more time on the Appalachian Trail, he was a ridge-runner on the Pennsylvania section in 2008.

All of these years and miles of thru-hiking experience have led Rue to follow his heart in embarking on his current journey- creating the American Perimeter Trail. The APT will roughly follow the border of the contiguous United States and cross 32 states, clocking in at about 12,000 miles. Rue left his home in Oregon to begin the first scout hike in July of 2019, and backpacked continuously until his return home for a rest in October 2020. He will finish the 12,000 Miles in 2022.

American Perimeter Trail

Website: https://americanperimetertrail.org/

Support The APTC: https://americanperimetertrail.org/support-our-work/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/americanperimetertrail/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/americanperimetertrail/

Rue McKenrick: https://www.instagram.com/ruemckenrick/

This transcript was edited to remove some filler words and phrases and is not verbatim according to what is spoken in the audio recording.

Meg: So thank you so much, Rue, for taking the time to be on the Outdoor Minimalist podcast today. We have a lot to talk about, but first, I want to know a little bit more about how you got into outdoor recreation and how that lasting passion has kind of fueled your career today.

Rue: Hi, thank you so very much for having me. I appreciate it, and I appreciate the question. You know, often I’m asked about a genesis story as far as why I have dedicated my life to conservationism and done that through my art of backpacking.

I don’t have a single genesis or origin story, but what I can tell you is that I had many wonderful experiences on the Appalachian Trail growing up. Living just a couple hundred yards from the trail, I got to meet a lot of backpackers over the years.

When I was much younger, I would always ask them questions, and they would tell me things like, “Oh, we play in the woods, and we’re out here every day.” These ideas were very appealing to me as someone curious and full of wonder about the world.

So, after becoming an adult, I started long-distance backpacking. I went to school for education and worked for a couple of different organizations. I served on some boards like the Antietam Watershed Association and worked with the Chesapeake Bay Association. I also worked for the Appalachian Trail Conservancy and the Appalachian Mountain Club. I’ve always had seasonal jobs with non-profits in one way or another. For instance, I was an AmeriCorps volunteer as a young man and worked for Outward Bound.

That combination of experiences represents recreation meeting ecology meeting conservationism because I worked for different organizations that prioritized each of those as their mission. Over time, I developed a more holistic approach to my endeavors. I had a background in recreation, a conservation piece from my work, and an ecology piece from my formal education in environmental science. I started thinking many years ago about how I could be a part of something bigger than myself. I asked, “How can I contribute to this planet during my finite time here?”

I looked toward natural talents I already had. It wasn’t about creating a resume—and I encourage everyone to think similarly. If you want to be part of something bigger, access the part of you where you recognize your talents or gifts and follow that path. Personally, I enjoy writing, music, and songwriting. I’m also a backpacker, so I’ve used that skill to advance conservation work. If I weren’t a backpacker, I might have used music or writing to contribute. It’s about looking around, seeing what you’re good at, and finding how you can offer that to the world.

Meg: That is a very diverse work history! I can definitely identify with that—I feel like I have similar pursuits in life. Focusing on your backpacking specifically, since it seems you’ve turned it into somewhat of a profession, could you give a little more background on your hiking and thru-hiking experience?

Rue: Certainly. I began long-distance backpacking over 20 years ago. I didn’t have any specific plans around it—I still don’t, really. Growing up near the Appalachian Trail, I always thought that maybe someday I’d do a distance hike. I didn’t know if I’d thru-hike, which means hiking the entire trail, but I ultimately decided to do it as a young man. For me, it wasn’t about reaching a specific end. It was about curiosity, exploration, travel, and a connection to the biosphere I lived in during those months.

After that, I went on to hike many other long-distance trails. For over a decade, my life revolved around these journeys. I’d spend half the year hiking and the other half working as many jobs as possible to save up for the next trip. For me, it was a pursuit of freedom more than anything else. Several years later, I completed the Triple Crown, which includes the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail.

I never intended to hike the Triple Crown; it just happened. Honestly, by the end of that season and the next few years, I started to wind down my backpacking. It wasn’t feeding me in the same way it once did. I think John Muir said something like, “The rocks no longer speak to me.” It wasn’t that I was losing my connection to nature; I just didn’t understand why I was out there anymore.

So, after becoming a Triple Crowner, I went on many more trips and worked with various trail organizations. Ultimately, my mind kept coming back to conservation and the idea of creating a larger project for my life’s work. That’s how I got to the American Perimeter Trail (APT). It’s my current hike and my conservation work. I’ve found a way to take my skills and use them to contribute to a larger mission.

Meg: It’s always interesting to hear how people’s journeys lead them to where they are today. When you’re in the moment, it doesn’t always feel cohesive or like it’s leading anywhere specific. But once you arrive, it starts to make sense. Hearing you explain this, it’s clear how you reached the APT and the APTC.

Rue: Thank you! These things definitely aren’t linear. You can have a plan, but as the saying goes, “When we make plans, God laughs.” It doesn’t matter what your spiritual views are—the point is, when you make large, linear plans, life often throws obstacles in your way. That’s been my experience, and while I’m better for it now, I wouldn’t have said that in the moment. [Laughter]

Meg: Since we’re talking about the APTC, can you explain a bit more about how creating the trail ties into conservation and what the APT is?

Rue: Great, thank you. I left Bend, Oregon, in July 2019 to begin hiking the American Perimeter Trail. I estimated it to be around 12,000 miles at the time. It didn’t have a route because this is an exploratory process. If a trail already existed, I doubt I would have chosen to hike it. The decision to undertake this was a holistic approach to conservation.

When I started, the conference didn’t exist. I didn’t have the resources or the people—which is the most important piece. I was told, “Just go. You can build it as you go.” I wasn’t looking forward to tackling the longest trail ever while also creating a massive conservation effort, but that’s how it began. The APT was something I’d conceived of 10 years earlier, but I didn’t spend those years planning it because I knew that would be unnecessary and, for me, counterproductive.

As I hiked, I sought help from the front country to handle tasks that were becoming difficult for me. Then, the pandemic hit, and those tasks became essential for continuing the project. At that point, it was the American Perimeter Trail Project. I always knew it was my baby, but my plan was to hand it over to the public eventually. I’m the only one who knows the entire route, so there’s intellectual property involved, but I’m sharing it purposefully.

I formed the conference, brought together a small board, and started building awareness for the APT. It’s now a membership organization, with founding members contributing annually. Our mission is to create a 14,000-mile trail that roughly follows the contiguous lower 48. It’s a conservation corridor for recreation and wildlife. Right now, we’re focused on building our community, talent, and people power to tackle this effort.

For example, during National Letter Writing Week, we’re educating people about how to write letters for the APT, what to include, and where to send them. This is part of our political action. Officially, we’re filed with the IRS as a conservation organization, not a trail organization, much like other trail organizations. We do conservation work, and people connect with it through recreation.

Meg: I'm going to go through a couple of different sections here that you discussed. So, in building the trail itself—I've never hiked these trails. I've hiked parts of the PCT, very small parts. I've seen sections of it, but I would imagine the American Perimeter Trail, in its entirety, even in its current phase of completion, must be quite different.

How do you go about building and solidifying the trail? We talked before in our first conversation about how you sometimes had to cross private property or public lands. So, how do you build a trail?

Rue: Wonderful question. I can speak a little to how trails have traditionally been built, though some of those methods no longer apply to us or are tools we would use. For instance, over 70 years ago, eminent domain was sometimes used. That's when the government takes land for public good, pays a fair market price, and the landowner doesn't really have a say. We won’t be doing that. Eminent domain isn’t something trail organizations use anymore, so I want listeners to know that's not part of this process.

From its inception, the American Perimeter Trail started as an idea that came into my brain. People ask me how it got there, and I don’t know—it just came to me. Having that responsibility, I started sharing the vision to see if others had similar ideas or missions. Not whether it was viable, but whether others shared the same enthusiasm. Starting with whether something is possible isn’t where you begin. You start with imagining what might be possible and go from there.

If I think about the entirety of the APT and all the processes ahead, it can feel overwhelming—enough to make me want to quit. But taking it piecemeal makes it manageable. The trail is heavily inspired by and defined by the regions it passes through. That’s the APT’s greatest gift, but it’s also its greatest challenge.

What do I mean by that? Well, some regions have a lot of public land, and others have almost none. My process adapts to those realities. Years ago, on other major trails, you might have encountered very different routes. They could have been paved roads, fire roads, or cross-country sections without trails. The APT will be no different in that sense.

Some parts of the route are solidified and will stay, while others will need to be built or rerouted. Right now, some sections are placeholders—dirt roads or other connectors—but eventually, they’ll be transformed into single-track footpaths.

At this stage, my main responsibilities are sharing the vision of the APT whenever I can, building membership, organizing the board, and establishing the bylaws and philosophies that will guide the project. I’m not the beginning or the end of this. When I decided to make the APT public, I handed over my rights to it, knowing I would. It’s hard to let go of something so personal, but it was necessary.

From here on, it’s a regional project. For example, if there’s an existing trail, we might partner with its organization to share a footpath. Some partnerships, like with the Continental Divide Trail, are already in place. In northern Montana and southern New Mexico, we’ll likely share sections of the CDT.

If there’s no existing trail but public land, I scout the area to determine the best route. Then, I work with land management agencies like the BLM, National Park Service, or U.S. Forest Service to develop the trail.

For private land, the process depends on the region. Take Texas as an example: there’s a lot of open land but very little public land. In those cases, I look for rights-of-way or easements through railroads, gas lines, or agreements with private landowners.

At this point, I’m building a network of regional satellites across the country. These groups will have some responsibility for their sections of the trail, reporting back to the central organization. The work is truly local. For instance, Pennsylvanians will build the Pennsylvania section of the APT, and Texans will build the Texas section.

My hope is not just to see the APT completed but for it to continue evolving. Trails like this never truly have a final resting place. They reach milestones, but they keep improving. I’m curious how much I’ll see in my lifetime. Most people who create trails don’t live to see their work fully realized, and that’s okay. My goal is for the APT to no longer need me.

I won’t orphan it, but I’ve handed over this gift, and I’m thrilled others get to share this dream with me.

Meg: Yeah, that is such an interesting process. I feel like when I’ve been hiking or backpacking in the past, I often wonder: Who is maintaining these trails? Who formed this trail in the first place? 

Sometimes those types of questions probably pop into a lot of people’s heads. It’s really interesting to hear you speak about that entire process because there’s so much going into it and so many different people contributing.

That kind of leads me to the question of how conservation ties into all of this. Obviously, you want to be able to use this trail for a very long time. So, is the intention just to conserve the immediate area around the trail, or what is your vision with that aspect?

Rue: Let me say this: I receive a lot of criticism from people who ask why I don’t just hike the way they would—taking some very defined, heavily used routes, connecting them together, and calling it done. But that’s simply not our mission.

My goal was never to create the longest trail just for the sake of hiking it or saying I did it. We’re trying to open up areas for recreation so that, if they’re not already in the public sector, they can be brought into it or at least treated with the respect they deserve. When people love and care for those areas, they tend to protect them.

So, I try not to rely solely on more established routes but to take the APT to other areas. You’ll hear a lot over the next couple of years about wild areas being “loved to death.” Unfortunately, some areas that often come up in those conversations are part of our National Scenic Trail system.

I didn’t want to bring more people to already crowded areas. The idea is to create a conservation corridor where people can recreate. However, from a conservation perspective, this isn’t about preserving pristine wilderness—that’s a different concept. There’s nothing wrong with designating more wilderness areas in this country, but what we’re doing is different.

Land and resources can be used for a number of purposes. My belief is that these natural resources aren’t something we can manufacture. They’re the result of millions of years of development, and they sustain themselves. Humans didn’t create these areas; we just use them.

From a utility perspective, I think some areas can better serve the communities they’re in, and the communities can better serve those areas through recreation and conservation. This aligns with efforts like the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act of the 1970s, and the creation of the EPA. Healthy air, clean water, and thriving ecosystems lead to healthier human beings. These two goals—human health and conservation—are not in opposition to each other.

Of course, this is just my perspective. I’d like to see this corridor brought into the public sector. I’m not a naysayer, and if someone has a different idea, they’re welcome to pursue it. But I don’t think there’s enough public will to support a nationwide conservation corridor solely as a wildlife initiative.

However, if this becomes an area where people feel a sense of ownership—because they recreate there, love it, and value it as part of their lives—I think that’s how we get this done. That’s the vision behind the American Perimeter Trail.

Meg: I see the correlation. It reminds me of episode 19 of the podcast—it’s not released at the time of this recording, but it’ll come out just before yours. In that episode, we talk about which sectors of the outdoor industry actually contribute to conservation, with much of the focus falling on sportsmen, like hunters and anglers.

I feel really grateful for your organization, but I’m curious—how do hiking communities contribute to conservation?

Rue: I’m glad you brought up recreation outside of hiking and backpacking. Just to clarify, we’re not creating the APT to make the next longest thru-hiking route in the world. If people want to thru-hike it, my hat’s off to them. But our focus is on the broader population—families, people who might walk for five minutes or five days, or even those who just want to have a picnic at a trailhead.

It’s also for people who might stop to take a photo at the APT because it represents something meaningful to them, even if they don’t know much about it. They can take pride in being part of a society that values these spaces.

As for other hiking communities, I can’t speak to their specific conservation efforts. I don’t target a single group or fundraiser. My focus is different. For example, you’ll rarely hear me talk about gear or the outdoor industry unless it’s to highlight the positive impact a partnership has had on conservation.

I believe companies in the outdoor industry have a responsibility if they’re encouraging people to buy gear and go outside. For instance, if a river once enjoyed by anglers becomes popular for paddling and overcrowded with outfitters, how do they compensate for that impact? That’s the difference between conservation and environmentalism.

As a professional backpacker, I hold gear providers to a standard. They should support the organizations and individuals doing the real conservation work. Selling products is their primary focus, but they can contribute by supporting the nonprofits working on these issues.

Right now, the APT is fully a grassroots organization. That means we rely on contributions from individuals, not corporate sponsors, larger entities, or government organizations. Our work is done by individuals coming together as part of the APT community.

I hope that answered your question!

Meg: Yeah, I think so. It seems like a very intentional approach to make it a grassroots effort. Perhaps it brings a bit more buy-in, like you were talking about earlier, with smaller communities not only contributing monetarily but also dedicating their time to building trail sections when needed.

Rue: Well, one thing it brings, Meg, is honesty. That’s really what it brings to the process. I’m asking a lot from people—their time, whatever resources they can share—and that requires trust. There’s a certain level of faith involved in that kind of relationship.

I’d like to think that, even though I’m not representing any gear companies right now, in the future, people would trust me to be legitimate. They’d know I wasn’t just endorsing products for recognition or money. There’s an honesty in how I communicate with our community. Do they believe me? That trust is fundamental.

I think we’ve moved beyond needing faith in me personally because enough people are now involved, but we had to start somewhere. That’s what this approach brings. It’s not about being pure or a purist. When I give my opinion, it’s coming from my heart and my experience, not from someone coaching me on talking points before an interview. [Laughter]

Meg: [Laughter] That makes a lot of sense.

Rue: Honestly, I don’t know how I have any gear sponsors! They’ve helped me out when I needed it—for example, when my stuff was stolen in Michigan. I’m grateful for their support.

But soon, as I wrap up the larger scouting pieces, the question becomes: does the outdoor industry want to be part of conservation or not? That decision will be made public, and people can vote with their wallets.

Meg: That’s a powerful question: Do you want to be part of conservation or not?

Rue: Exactly. I ask these hard questions—that’s part of my role here. I didn’t put my life, my welfare, my sanity, and everything else on the line to avoid tough conversations or be influenced by greed.

I get a lot of criticism for this approach because it’s seen as taking the hard road. I don’t like calling it the “high road” because I’m not above anyone, but it’s definitely a hard line. It’s about having boundaries.

Meg: Sure, that makes sense. I really admire your approach and your commitment to conservation. It’s part of what made me so excited to have this conversation with you.

As a final question, how can people learn more about the American Perimeter Trail, follow its progress, and get involved locally?

Rue: Great question! As I mentioned, we’ve started offering memberships. It’s $35 annually, but if that’s too much, you can pay $6 every two months. And if someone truly can’t afford it, they can contact me directly—we’ll find a way for them to participate.

You can visit our website at AmericanPerimeterTrail.org to sign up as a member or “Builder.” We’re also on social media. There’s an American Perimeter Trail page on Facebook and a community page where people can post and connect. On Instagram, we’re @AmericanPerimeterTrail.

Personally, you can find me at RueMcKenrick.weebly.com and on social media under my name. At this point, it’s hard to separate myself from the APT, but that’s okay for now. Just know that while I’m always wearing the “executive director” hat, I’m also a person—and a professional backpacker.

For anyone who wants to get involved, I’d recommend becoming a community member, posting a hello on the Facebook page, and introducing yourself to the group. Depending on where you live, your location might be a huge asset. For example, if you’re in an area where the APT might pass through, you can connect with local trail or conservation organizations.

We’ve had people contact us about incorporating their existing trails or creating new ones. Even if someone’s ideas differ from the current route, I’m always open to hearing them. Sometimes, we end up redrawing the map based on those suggestions!

Meg: It sounds like there are so many great opportunities for community involvement, which is so important. I’ll share all the links and social handles in the episode notes so listeners can check back later. Thank you so much for sharing your story, Rue, and for all your work on the APT. I’m excited to follow the progress!

Rue: Thank you, Meg. I really appreciate it.

Meg (Outro): Thank you again to Rue and the team at the American Perimeter Trail Conference. I’m excited to follow the progress on the trail and continue learning about their conservation efforts.