Sometimes nothing makes sense like a long walk in the woods.

That’s what 22-year-old Centerville residents Connor Burke and Travis Smith decided last May. Almost five-and-a-half months and more than 2,100 miles later, they weren’t sorry.

The experience, they say, changed them in many ways, including their view of their fellow man. But more about that later.

After 16 years of nonstop education, Burke decided a break was in order. He was graduating from Case Western Reserve University and had been accepted into medical school at Ohio State, but convinced OSU to give him a year before starting the program. He then began recruiting friends. Smith, who has one semester left at Miami University, took the bait.

A few weeks later, with characteristically scanty planning, the longtime hiking buddies were on the Appalachian Trail.

They didn’t stop until they had walked all 2,178.3 miles. And, to hear them talk, it wasn’t all so hard.

Full disclosure: As an adult leader of Troop 516 in Centerville, I’ve been camping with the two and the rest of their patrol since they were 11. We’ve gone on dozens of campouts — hiking, backpacking, skiing and canoeing. (The caving trips, I passed on.) I’ve seen firsthand that these guys — both Eagle Scouts — know how to handle themselves in the wilderness, and have the stamina and ingenuity to pull off a trek like this. Even with very little preparation.

“I had done almost no research,” said Burke, who was home for two days before leaving for the trail. “But it was really easy to hike the AT logistically.”

Smith had ordered a book on the trail: “The Appalachian Trail Through-hikers Companion,” which became their trail bible, but it didn’t arrive until Burke did, so he didn’t have time to read it.

No worries though, they threw some gear in their packs and took off.

“Nobody uses maps,” Smith said. “It’s a path through the woods that doesn’t have trees. If you can pick that out of the areas that have trees, you’re usually on the right track.

“And then you hit the (white) blazes (markers) every 100 yards, and you just blindly follow the blazes.”

Besides, Burke said, they would have had to buy close to 60 maps.

“We figured it out,” he said. “It would literally have cost, like, $600.”

No way they were doing that. Did I mention, they were college students?

Burke said he had about $2,000 to spend — a little less than the $1 per mile trail rule of thumb. It’s not much for a 165-day trek.

So, they cut corners.

“I hiked the entire trail in an $8 bathing suit that I bought at Walmart,” Smith said. “They were light little nylon shorts. They get soaking wet in the rain and dry out in 10 minutes.”

They used mostly gear they already had, then jettisoned a lot of it along the way.

Their trail dinner of choice: Knorr Rice Sides, mixed with instant mashed potatoes. “But snacks were really a big thing,” Smith said.

They didn’t have the money for Clif Bars and other fancy trail food that short-distance hikers (like me) often carry. So they bought two-pound bags of cereal or three-pound value-size boxes of cookies for snacks.

They had decided to do what’s called a “flip-flop,” starting at Harper’s Ferry in West Virginia and hiking north, then getting a ride back to the midpoint and hiking south. It was too late to start from Georgia, and Maine was so far away.

And the weather was better. It rained a lot in June, but nothing like what happened to the southbound hikers who began about the same time in Maine.

“It rained on them (south-bounders) 26 out of 30 days,” Smith said. “Plus, a lot of Maine is a low-land. They were talking about slogging through knee-high water.”

Usually, if one got a bit down on the trail, the other could pick up their spirits. But after about 900 miles of walking, somewhere in northern New Hampshire, the duo said they both hit a wall.

“We both went through a four-day spate of really not wanting to be on the trail,” Burke said. “We both got a little bit sick.”

They began thinking about quitting once they got to the northern end. “But once we hit Maine, it lifted,” Burke said. “Like the clouds parted and it was really fun again.”

Both said Maine provided some of the highlights of the trail.

“It had crystal clear lakes everywhere and conifers and blue skies and super starry nights,” Burke said. “Maine was just cool generally.”

And it had Mount Katahdin, the northern terminus of the trail and a place of both beauty and jubilation for many hikers.

They also loved the White Mountains in New Hampshire for their “super epic” views.

They rhapsodized about Grayson Highlands in southern Virginia, and several October days in the Roan Mountains on the Tennessee-North Carolina border when snow turned the wilderness into a picture postcard.

“We were up on this high ridge, exposed for an hour,” Smith said. “And it was wicked snow, like wind just whipping. And everything was crusted with snow.”

That night they took refuge in a converted barn, then got up early the next morning.

“The sun starts to peak up, and then it breaks over the mountains,” Smith said, revving up his mile-a-minute story-telling pace at the memory. “And then the whole valley is just like — whoosh — with sunlight. And the snow is all sparkling everywhere and the sun starts warming you, and you’re just like ‘Ahhhhhhh!’ And when you look into the valleys, they’re all bright with fall colors. It was incredible.”

Another highlight: shelters close to roads.

“It’s always exciting to get there and order pizza,” Smith said. “You can have pizza delivered to you on the trail!”

If you read their blog, at http://connortravisat.blogspot.com, you begin to see how much through-hikers are obsessed by food. Still, they warned, hiking the trail isn’t all awe and wonder.

“To be honest, a lot of hiking the AT is walking through monotonous woods,” Smith said. “Plodding along, the same stuff over and over again.”

“Most of every day, you’re lost in your thoughts,” Burke added.

And they did a lot of thinking, about where they were headed in their lives.

They both say they realized there are many ways to live a full life.

“It really helped me break out of this mold I thought I was in,” Smith said. “I really thought I was stuck in this trough, and it really helped me think, ‘No, I can do anything I want.’ ”

Both said the kindness and generosity of the people they met on the trail changed their outlook on life.

“I think I had always gone back and forth on what I thought people were like in general,” Burke said. “You know, what is the nature of humanity?

“Maybe it’s a somewhat skewed sample ... but people are so nice and kind. It was a decision that I made somewhere along the trail that people are at heart good rather than bad.

“That was really significant.”

Contact this reporter at (937) 225-2393 or kmccall@DaytonDailyNews.com.