40 Miles on Massachusetts' Bay Circuit Trail from Newburyport to Andover in 1 day.

An Idiotic Plan:

I’ve always wanted to walk 40 miles in one day. It’s a milestone target that has been on my mind for about 5 years. I’ve read many accounts of hikers on the Appalachian or Pacific Coast Trail completing multiple 40 mile days. Frankly, they made it sound kind of easy. You just wake up early and walk all day till dark. How hard could it be? After all it’s just walking.

My brother Mark and I were fresh off a 23-mile hike in the White Mountains of NH along the Presidential Ridge. A notoriously difficult 1-day hike, the Presidential Traverse tackles eight 4,000-foot peaks while gaining close to 10,000 feet in elevation gain and loss. Not to mention the difficult rocky terrain which seems like it was designed with the ultimate goal of destroying a hiker’s feet. Not to mention the 50 mph winds we encountered on 4 of the 8 peaks which felt like getting in the ring with a heavy weight fighter for 8 rounds. Not to mention the fact that it took us almost 15 hours to complete. Not to mention that the last 3 miles were torture unlike anything I have ever experienced. If I was given the choice of completing those last 3 miles again, or being waterboarded, I’d have to think long and hard about my choice.

Comparably speaking, walking 40 miles along a relatively flat trail in mild weather seemed like it would be a cake walk compared to the rigorous and unforgiving hike along the Presidential Ridge. My plan was to walk from Newburyport to Andover along the Bay Circuit Trail. It would be a walk in the park (literally). Also, it would serve to help us (my brother and I) prepare for our next big adventure in July of this year, which is to hike the 31-mile Pemi Loop Trail in the White Mountains in 1 day. It was a fail proof plan. Surely, it would be no problem to bang out 40 miles, wake up the next day and continue living life like any other day. Boy was I wrong. Dead wrong. Here is our story.

The Trail:

The Bay Circuit Trail is a mixture of wooded trails and roads that begins in Newburyport and ends 230 miles later in Duxbury. The trail forms a crescent shape (nicknamed the Outer Emerald Necklace) that wraps around Boston while crossing through 38 towns along the way. It was originally proposed in 1929 by a man named Charles Elliot. I’ll give Chuck some credit. Connecting all of these roads and trails into one big trail that is over 230 miles long is a wild idea. It passes through over 79 protected land areas including forests, historical parks, salt marshes and old cranberry bogs. The trail wasn’t completed until 2019 and is now managed by the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC). The trail is well marked (for the most part) with the Bay Circuit Trail emblem. The emblem trail marker can be seen on trees, telephone poles, and road signs along the path. If you don’t want to rely fully on following the trail markers, the website for the BCT also has an interactive map that can be used via GPS to help you along the way.

I calculated (incorrectly) that the hike from the Northern terminus of Newburyport to Andover (where I live) was about 40-45 miles. This led me to devising a plan that was simple in scope. Hike from Newburyport to my house in one day. 40-45 miles along mostly flat trails through shaded forests and along old roads couldn’t possibly be too difficult, right? I just walked up and down daunting 4,000-foot mountains with sharp rocks and dangerous winds for 23 miles. This would be easy by comparison, right? I shared my idea with my brother. “In” was his response via text. I guess he didn’t need much convincing. We set the date of June 20 and the rest was history.

Newburyport:

We set out from the Tannery Marketplace in Newburyport at 6 AM. It was roughly 2 miles from the Tannery the start of the hike. In retrospect, adding two miles to this hike is incredibly dumb. Not as dumb as our overconfidence and ignorance with respect to our plan but dumb none-the-less. We set off at a brisk pace. Our goal was to maintain a 3 MPH (20 min miles) pace without stopping to rest till lunch. Was this a good strategy? No, but it was a strategy and we were dead set on following it. There was only so much daylight to work with, so conceptually it made sense.

The most memorable part of hiking through Newburyport was crossing the grass runway of the Newburyport Airport. From there a trail cuts its way through an old farm. We made good time for the first few miles. We walked along the infamous High Street towards Newbury as we passed Tendercrop Farm before turning down a number of shaded residential streets. At this point in the day we ate up miles and stayed way ahead of our goaled pace. Our first 3 miles were 15 min, 17 min, 14 min. With a goal of maintaining 20 min miles, we were banking all kinds of time that we would could cash in on later in the day. The old adage “a penny saved is a penny earned” came to mind. Except, here pennies were minutes and what we earned was daylight.

Newbury:

Newbury is a stunning town to walk through. Quiet, spread out, scenic. The highlight was a section of Newman Rd that cut straight threw a beautiful marshland. We felt as if we were on top of the world. “Why don’t more people do this?” my brother asked. “It’s 40 miles,” I answered. “Everyone should do this,” he said. “Ya, I don’t think this is an activity for everyone Mark,” I responded. The reality of what we were attempting had not set in yet. Time passed quickly on this section and before we knew it we were in Rowley.

Rowley:

The Rowley section of the BCT was our least favorite. Almost all of it was road walking along route 1A. After hiking on cement for about 4 miles, I started to feel the impact on my body, and particularly my hips. The pounding took a toll and even though we were still in the very early stages of the hike, I was starting to get uncomfortable. Looking at my watch and realizing that we hadn’t even hit the 10-mile mark yet, trepidation started to set it. How the hell were we going to do this for another 30-40 miles? The good news is we were still making good time and banking minutes. Thankfully we entered a wooded trail section as we passed into Ipswich. Our legs, feet and hips were instantly relieved. My mindset shifted from negative to positive. I think my biggest take away from this experience is that the difference between road walking and trail walking is significant. I made a mental note to read up on this because I never realized just how disparate the two are. I was curious if it’s just me or do hikers experience this to the same degree that my brother and I did. It’s like night and day, ying and yang, water and oil, fire and ice, rich and poor, sad and happy. You get the point.

Ipswich:

Ipswich was enjoyable as the trail comprised mainly of wooded paths through Willowdale State Forest. During this section of the hike, both me and my brother were relatively quiet. We were focused on making good time and settled into a comfortable rhythm. Time passed quickly during this part of the day as we ate up miles like popcorn at a movie. I had calculated (again incorrectly) that we would hit our lunch spot at about mile 15, so we continued to hike with the goal of getting to lunch. Unfortunately, it was much further away than I realized. We were pretty sure we had enough water and food, however, not knowing if or when we would have the opportunity again to restock water before lunch, we made a quick stop at a Richdale which was slightly off the path in Rowley. I bought a large water for my brother and a coffee drink for myself. We continued through Willowdale Forest for a few hours. It became very clear that this hike was much longer than I originally had thought. I looked at the map and started to do some calculations. We set a new plan to cut off a small part of the trail that headed North before curving back South. We figured it would cut off 2 or 3 miles. We were approaching the 20-mile mark and we were ready for lunch. The trail passes by a restaurant in Boxford called Boxford Community Kitchen. We figured it was about 4 miles of road walking to get there, so we set off eager for a rest. Fatigue was setting in and the thought that we weren’t even halfway to our goal of 40 miles was difficult to digest, but for now our singular goal was to get to lunch and re-evaluate.

Boxford:

We may have clipped the corner of Topsfield as we took our short cut, but it’s hard to tell. We arrived at our lunch place around 1:30 PM. All we wanted to do was sit down and rest. This sounds insane, but getting our water replenished and ordering some food was torture. My brother waited at a table outside and allowed me the honor of staying on my feet for an extra 10 minutes. That was kind of him. I guess being the older brother didn’t obligate him to do the heavy lifting. Rest was the only thing on his mind. When I finally sat down, it was heaven. I cannot explain the feeling of getting off your feet after walking for 24 miles and 7.5 hours. As I ate my lunch I thought to myself, there is no way we are going to make it. Of course I didn’t say this out loud, but as I looked across the table at my brother, what I saw wasn’t encouraging. Were we out for walk or did we just come back from war?

As we sat at our table tending to our feet, legs and bodies I said, “We need to slow our pace down or we won’t make it.” He nodded. I’m guessing he didn’t want to waste the energy it took to speak. When we finally pushed off, the pain came back full force. I was disappointed in myself. People run marathons all the time. A marathon is 26.2 miles. We were at 24 miles, which wasn’t even a full marathon. And we were walking! Why was my body failing me? Why was this so hard? To this point this summer, we had run in 2 half marathons, raced in a Spartan Super (10 miles), hiked multiple times in the White Mountains including a 24 mile, 10K elevation day. Why was walking so hard? Why was pain shooting up and down my legs and through my feet? It made no sense!

We hiked through a residential area with the sun blazing on us. We had both taken some Advil at lunch and we waited (not so) patiently for it to kick in. We must of looked like two lost souls walking through this affluent neighborhood in Boxford. One step in front of the other we wobbled our way down the street. Eventually we entered the Boxford State Forest. This was a blessing as getting off of the pavement was an instant improvement. We aren’t sure if was the 20 min rest, the Advil or the food, but we settled back into a somewhat comfortable rhythm. We started to argue about sports and entertainment which helped the time pass by.

“I hate Tom Hanks. He is a terrible actor.” My brother mused. I knew not to challenge this absurd take because it was exactly what he wanted me to do. I wasn’t about to let him bait me into one of his absurd, no win, time loop squabbles. Instead I responded with, “Ok, who are your favorite actors?” The next 20 minutes comprised of my brother trying to tell me who his favorite actors were even though he couldn’t think of their names. “He was in the movie with the guy from the Tarantino movie.” This nonsense went on and on for an hour.

This section of forest was never-ending and eventually we ran out of sports and entertainment topics to argue about. We saw one person on a bike the entire time we were in there. When we finally exited the forest I felt for the first time that we had really accomplished something. We passed the 26.2 (Marathon) mark and we were approaching North Andover. After that, only Andover remained.

Time was slipping by quickly and it became apparent that we would likely run out of daylight before making it back to my house in Andover. We tried not to think about that and continued on. Priorities had shifted. We were over 30 miles, and this no longer was about finishing at my house. This was about survival. Plain and simple. At this point we were both starting to fall apart. I was ok as long as I was in the woods, but every time my feet hit cement, my body cursed at me to find softer ground. My brother’s feet were already in bad shape but were about to take a turn for the worse. We were at about 33 miles and things were about to get interesting.

North Andover:

We entered Harold Parker State Forest where we would spend the next few hours making our way through the zig zag trails. This is when the blister fairy visited my brother. He had already developed a nasty blister on his heal, but he assured me that it wouldn’t hold him back. It looked horrific, like someone took a knife and slit the back of heal. I didn’t want to think about the fact that if it got infected it would not be a fun experience. I mentioned this to him. “Mark, you need to clean that blister really well when you get home.” His response was short and to the point. “Ok.” I wasn’t confident that he would do so, so I continued to pester him from time to time. “Don’t forget to clean your blister and make sure to use Neosporin.”

As we made our way through Harold Parker, he would develop more blisters, this time on his feet and toes. I knew from experience that while a “blister” doesn’t sound like much, it could be completely and totally debilitating.

As we approached mile 35, I heard a scream echo through the woods from behind me. Uh oh. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “My blister popped,” my brother said. He began to limp and then he stopped. I knew we were in trouble. We didn’t have a med kit. We were kind of stuck. We tried a few things. I told him to try walking in his socks. This provided relief for a few hundred feet before the rocks on the trail made that impossible. We took a break and evaluated the situation. He was determined to keep going. Our pace slowed to a crawl, but we continued. As daylight started to slip away we discussed the realization that we weren’t going to make it to my house. After some back and forth we set a new goal. We were going to make it to the 40-mile mark. We just needed to get out of the woods. My brother was confident that if we got out of the woods, he could walk on roads. The rocks and roots on the trails were wreaking havoc on his blisters.

Andover:

We exited Harold Parker State Forrest at mile 37. We had about 1.5 hours of daylight. 40 miles would put us close to Phillips Academy in Andover. We set out towards PA with the mindset that we will get to 40 miles no matter what. The section of road we were walking on was a steady never-ending uphill climb. I cannot tell you what this does to the psyche. Why now? Why couldn’t this be a nice easy downhill cruiser? It never works out that way. We refused to let it stop us. We were both limping and trying our best to put one foot in front of the other. We didn’t talk; we just powered on. Occasionally a groan or a yelp could be heard, usually from me. I started getting horrible sharp pains in my feet. I have never felt this type of pain. It was as if my bones themselves were in pain. Sharp as knife they’d hit me and would almost bring me to my knees. This was not healthy. This was not smart. This was not sane. It certainly was not a walk in the park. However, when I looked at my brother I knew that we were going to hit 40 miles even if we had to crawl the last mile. Up the hill we went. One step at a time we made it to Phillips Academy. We had another mile to go. My brother started talking to himself. I don’t know if it was a conversation with a back and forth or if he was just yelling at himself to keep going. We crossed route 28 and headed down Phillips Street. It was getting dark. ½ mile left. “Almost their Mark,” I said. I got no response.

When we hit the 40-mile mark, we sat down. That was it. We would take no more steps. I got us a ride. We still had 10 miles to get to my house, maybe 15. There was no way we could have made it. Not without causing serious injury or harm to our bodies. It didn’t matter though. We did it. We became part of the 40-mile club.

Epilogue:

I used my Garmin watch to track this hike. Here are the totals; 40.01 miles. Total time: 14:21:05. Total ascent was 2,759 feet. I burned 4,714 calories. Our average pace was 21:32 per mile (including 15 min lunch break). We were in Zone 2 (heart rate) for 11 hours. Our fastest mile was mile 3 at 14:48. Our slowest mile not including lunch was mile 35 @ 40:24 (blister-gate). Our average moving speed was 3.1 MPH. Overall speed was 2.8 MPH. Max speed was 6.5 MPH. Perhaps the most impressive stat was that we hit 88,467 steps, which is an absolute absurd number and a personal record for both of us.

Two days later as I am writing this I can barely walk. I have no appetite. My body is confused. It’s decided to silently protest against me. It’s most likely angry for what I put it through. Once I stand up and start moving, it takes me a good 30 steps for the soreness to subside to a dull pain. While getting coffee an 85-year-old women walked by me like I was a sloth moving in slow motion.

I still can’t understand why it was so hard. Why was walking 40 miles across mostly flat terrain so demanding and harsh on the body? I went to Google to find some answers and to prove to myself that I am not a feeble old man with unrealistic expectations and foolhardy confidence. What I found was reassuring. I asked Google about walking 40 miles in 1 day. Here’s what it said: Walking 40 miles in a single day is an extreme physical challenge. It takes most people between 12 to 15 hours of continuous movement and burns upwards of 3,000 to 4,000+ calories. Without prior conditioning, this distance is incredibly grueling and highly likely to cause severe blisters, joint pain, and muscle fatigue.

Severe blisters- Check. Joint pain- Check. Muscle fatigue- Check. Thanks Google for the reassurance that I am not a feeble old man. I’m just a normal old man. I went on to learn that the general consensus amongst the hard core hiking community was to make sure you had 1000 miles under your belt (in a season) before attempting 40 miles. Oops! We had about 50. I stand by the idea of hiking 40 miles along the BCT as it is a fulfilling and worthy goal, however, in retrospect I vastly underestimated the difficulty and for that I offer a mea culpa. Theres no denying that it was a bridge too far. That we bit off more than we could chew. We were pushing the envelope. Whatever idiom you want to use, I’m sure it would be appropriate. However, in the end I am glad we did it. I can say that with absolute certainty. No regrets, but next time I will bring more Advil and a med kit.

-MikeHikesTheAlps 2026

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-MikeHikesTheAlps