Eric Lorrain had always wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail. In 1991, he was close to doing it when he was in a car accident that blew out his knee.

In the ensuing years, the East Boothbay man section hiked the trail in New Hampshire and Maine, but vowed the next time something “big” happened to him, he'd attempt the full 2,160-mile-long footpath.

That came about in 2014 when he went through a divorce.

He started at Springer Mountain, Georgia on April 7 and hiked Katahdin on Sept. 27, skipping the portions in Maine and New Hampshire he had already hiked.

But before he started what he termed a “shamanic journey,” Lorrain participated in a transformative dance gathering in Tennessee called the Dance for all People, an event based on Great Plains peoples' traditions, according to its website.

“We finished the dance, and I asked the dance chief to give me a trail name,” Lorrain said. “And he didn't give me one, and I was all upset. So we rented a car and drove to Georgia, and that night in the hotel before I got on the trail ... I went in my bag to get my tweezers, and I didn't have any.”

Tweezers are almost essential for long distance hikers, as they use them for a variety of things, including picking off ticks.

“The very next morning (me and my friend Lloyd Olson) drove to breakfast in Dalton, Georgia,” he said. “I put my foot down in the parking lot, and guess what was between my feet? A brand new pair of tweezers.”

It wasn’t the only fortuitous occurrence he had before he started the trail.

Lorrain and his friend Olson, who gave him a ride to Georgia, were in the restaurant the same morning that Lorrain found the tweezers.

As the two men were chatting with the waitress, who was telling them that she was going to take a horseback ride from Georgia to Tennessee, Lorrain told her that he too was starting a journey, walking from Georgia to Maine.

“And she looked at me, and she went, ‘On purpose?’ And my buddy (Olson) said, 'Well there's your trail name.'”

So equipped with a trail name (a nickname hikers use on the trail), tweezers and the rest of his equipment, he began his journey.

Lorrain made his own trail “mark” many places along the way, a heart with a smiley face in it that he drew in the dirt. He said other hikers would catch up with him on the trail and thank him for the mark, which encouraged them to keep going.

But it wasn't all magic for Lorrain.

In Harriman State Park, New York, Lorrain had to traverse a narrow, difficult 25-foot-long path through two rocks called the “Lemon Squeezer.”

“I’m walking sideways carrying 30-40 pounds, and the knee didn’t like it,” he said. “And I blew it out.”

He walked from Pennsylvania to Stratton, Vermont with the blown-out knee, but he said he had a method to make the pain go away.

Lorrain calls it “putting a smile on your heart,” and said it’s based not only on methods yogis use, but also on scientific research done by the Omega Center, an organization that offers holistic health workshops.

“All I did was smile, and it worked,” he said.

And sometimes the tough parts turned out for the best. 

At camp one night, he realized he had lost or left his Leatherman knife somewhere, so he couldn’t do maintenance on his hammock. Then he ended up spilling his dinner on the ground by accident.

Frustrated, he kicked the ground at his campsite.

“And guess what I kicked, in the leaves?” he said. “A brand new pair of Leathermans.”

So he was able to make his repairs. But it didn’t end there.

He spent the next month on the trail asking fellow hikers if they knew of anyone who had lost a knife.

Sure enough, many miles down the trail, he found a young woman, trail name “Connecticut Girl,” who had lost her knife.

“I came onto the road and there was this girl who just had norovirus,” he said. “She looked terrible.”

When Lorrain handed over the knife, he said she started bawling.

“Evidently someone very special, I think it was her father that had passed away, gave her (the knife).”

Lorrain had a major setback in Vermont, when he finally got his knee checked out.

“I got to Stratton Mountain and said ‘Man, I can go up but I can’t come down,’ so I came to this road in the middle of the woods, and I put my pack down, and I say, ‘OK, if a car shows up while I’m eating this packet of Pop Tarts, I’m outta here,’” he said. “I barely even got the thing open, and this car from Maine shows up.”

After learning his knee would require surgery, he decided to section hike the rest of the trail with his truck and his dog, 11-year-old Sophia, helping other hikers by providing a little “trail magic.” And, on Sept. 27, he made it to Katahdin.

Looking back, Lorrain said he has some advice for younger hikers — slow down.

“There are people who hike the trail who have their maps, their destinations, their watch,” he said. “And they have a tight schedule. And they don't really get to enjoy the hike. ‘Cause they're going. They're never 'there.'”