St. Benedict’s Preparatory School: Fifty Years of Appalachian Trail Treks Forge Resilience and Brotherhood

Published August 7, 2026 01:05 PM

The hours seemed to have ground on forever, and a barrage of "F-words" burned through 15-year-old Lilliana Galo’s brain like the uncharacteristic May heat: fatigue, frustration, and fudgggge! It was 2025, and Galo and seven other classmates were three nights into a five-day trek on the Appalachian Trail that would carry them through most of New Jersey. They’d hiked about nine miles so far that day and had one or two left to go before camp. Everything ached, from Galo’s pulverized soles to the throbbing collarbone she’d broken just days before the hike. Yet, as she focused on her feet, ensuring no dragging, just one step after another, a quiet determination settled in. A deep breath, a long, slow climb up one of the Kittatinny Mountain ridge’s many small knobs leveled out, then plunged into a brief descent. The group erupted in a cheer. Galo, trailing at the back, looked up to see her bedraggled friends, clad in what looked like hand-me-down boots and packs reminiscent of a late-aughts REI garage sale, linked arm in arm, giggling and supporting each other as they sidestepped downhill.

“None of us had done anything like this before, so we were absolutely dying,” Galo recounted later. “But instead of giving in and quitting, we’d chosen to literally and figuratively lean on one another for strength.” This, she realized, was precisely what teachers, upperclassmen, and alumni had been hyping up all year. Showering praise and encouragement on her friends, Galo felt a profound sense of pride. “I realized these girls had become like sisters to me,” she said. “Up to then, I wasn’t sure if we had it in us to finish the hike. But I realized that we’d been building up to this moment where it became crystal clear that, working together, we could accomplish whatever we set our minds out to achieve.”

This 55-mile trek marked the culmination of a mandatory rite of passage for first-year students at St. Benedict’s Preparatory School. For over half a century, rising sophomores at the private Newark, New Jersey, academy have embarked on the AT in late spring for a self-guided leadership and team-building exercise. Classes of approximately 190 students are meticulously divided into small groups, each hiking and camping in staggered intervals along the iconic trail. Within these units, teammates assume distinct roles—navigator, cook, medic, or captain—and their collective success hinges on mutual reliance. The modern connectivity that often defines adolescent life is deliberately absent; phones and gadgets are strictly verboten. While two faculty members, administrators, or upper-division students accompany each group solely for emergency support, they refrain from direct involvement in decision-making or offering anything beyond moral encouragement. Compounding the challenge, virtually all students enter the program with minimal to no prior backpacking experience, often having spent little to no time in the wilderness, let alone the backcountry.

Glenn Cassidy, the current program director, a proud alumnus of Benedict’s Class of 1990, explains the profound intention behind the experience. “The experience is designed to remove students from their urban comfort zone, introduce them to the lifelong benefits of nature, and create an immersive challenge that they can’t overcome alone,” he states. The overarching goal is to cultivate resilience, foster self-confidence, and instill a deep appreciation for the power of a synchronized team. Beyond personal development, the AT hike serves as a formal initiation into the broader St. Benedict’s community. “When you cross that finish line, you’re following in the footsteps of every St. Benedict’s man and woman that’s come before you,” Galo adds, reflecting on the enduring legacy. “The entire year has built to this point where you’ve proven to yourself and everyone else that you belong here and have what it takes to continue that lineage of success.”

50 Years on the Appalachian Trail: An Accidental Beginning

Cassidy proudly asserts that the full-class program is unique in the nation, and its origins in 1973 were, in fact, a happy accident. St. Benedict’s predecessor institution, founded in 1868, served a predominantly working-class community of German, Irish, and Italian Catholic immigrants for nearly a century. However, years of white flight and significant societal upheaval following the Newark race riots of 1967 led to the closure of the predominantly Caucasian school in 1972. A small but determined group of monks subsequently reformed and reopened a scaled-down version of the academy a year later.

The core mission of educating underserved populations remained steadfast, but the socioeconomic landscape had dramatically shifted. Newark by 1980 boasted one of the nation’s highest concentrations of urban poverty, with nearly 60 percent of its residents living in federally designated low-income areas. The relaunched school welcomed a student body that was now almost exclusively Black and brown, with the new administration implementing generous scholarships and robust financial aid packages to ensure affordability.

Cassidy elaborates on the founders’ prescient understanding that breaking the systemic cycle of poverty necessitated deep educational engagement, with experiential learning taking a central role in the curriculum. The administrators launched an ambitious annual spring project where students divided into small groups, immersing themselves in subjects aligned with their professional interests. These included dedicated teams exploring architecture, photography, art, medicine, and various other fields.

It was in 1973 that the founding headmaster, Edwin Leahy, conceived a truly novel idea: why not take students on a multi-day hike along the Appalachian Trail? He envisioned a long walk in the woods as a pathway to introduce quietude and nature-based self-regulation. He believed a demanding 50-plus-mile backpacking adventure would powerfully impress values such as discipline, teamwork, and perseverance. Crucially, he also foresaw ample time for meaningful dialogue, covering everything from managing difficult emotions to discussing home life issues, personal dreams, and potential career aspirations.

“The problem was, Father Ed had never been backpacking,” Cassidy recalls with a chuckle. “Not only that, there was no gear or any discretionary funds to purchase it—and even if they’d had the money, no one would have known what to buy.” Undeterred, Leahy was convinced of the trek’s transformative potential for the young men’s life trajectories. (St. Benedict’s embraced inclusivity in 2017 when it merged with a neighboring school, becoming coeducational.) He meticulously acquired maps and relevant literature, and implemented a rigorous training regimen. Students engaged in physical fitness activities, including walking the school grounds with weighted backpacks and collaboratively navigating a makeshift obstacle course while blindfolded. This was followed by a crucial practice hike to a neighboring town.

The initial practice excursion saw the group lacing up their sneakers, filling school backpacks with snacks and water jugs, and setting out on a demanding 20-mile road walk. “They were so inexperienced that it took forever,” Cassidy recalls. “Then they arrived after dark and realized: ‘How the heck are we gonna get back?’ Father Ed had to knock on the door of a monastery and ask to use their phone to call a ride.”

The inaugural AT trip itself was equally characterized by a series of misadventures. One student inexplicably arrived with his mother’s rolling luggage, while another had inexplicably tied a set of cast-iron pans to his shoulder straps. Appropriate footwear was virtually non-existent; diets were heavily reliant on peanut butter and jelly; and tents were sourced from general merchandise stores. Without a dedicated support team and with cell phones not yet in existence, the hike was a true test of endurance and self-reliance—a make-it-or-break-it scenario.

At one point, a student abruptly sat down in the middle of the trail halfway through, adamantly refusing to continue. Leahy, in a moment of pedagogical firmness, informed him that they would see him next year—assuming he could survive that long. Fortunately, this stark pronouncement spurred the student back to his feet. “But Father Ed told me later it was a miracle that they all survived,” Cassidy admits.

Despite the initial challenges, the program demonstrated undeniable promise. The boys forged strong bonds with the headmaster and each other through the shared hardships of their quest, returning to the school like triumphant heroes. The burgeoning mutual respect and camaraderie proved instrumental in their integration into the Benedict’s community, and behavioral issues swiftly diminished.

The Program Evolves: From Necessity to Tradition

The resounding success of the initial trek inspired Leahy to formalize it into an annual institution. This mission received a significant boost two years later when Mark Payne, a new teacher and an avid outdoorsman and Scoutmaster, enthusiastically volunteered to take over the nascent program. Payne, a seasoned and accomplished backpacker, firmly believed in the transformative potential of the vanguard AT trek for both the students and the school itself. He recognized that its potency, however, was intrinsically linked to its scope and structure.

The subsequent overhaul was thoughtfully informed by a judicious blend of Boy Scout protocols, deeply ingrained conservation principles, and the core school values, eloquently codified in mottos such as, “Whatever hurts my brother, hurts me.” Payne astutely expanded the experience to encompass all first-year students, seamlessly integrating it into a comprehensive, year-long agenda meticulously designed to foster a profound sense of school identity and belonging.

“When you sign up to go to Benedict’s, you know about the hike,” says Galo, whose older siblings had attended the school and whose tales of their backpacking adventures had become the stuff of legend. “But you also understand it’s not this standalone thing, but more like a test that you slowly build up the confidence to know you can pass.”

By the time Cassidy and his classmate Herb Brooks embarked on their AT hike in the late 1980s, the program had matured into a remarkably well-oiled machine. It commenced with monthly, three-hour seminars held from February through April. These intensive sessions covered essential trail skills, including basic first aid, effective tick management, proper tent setup, outdoor cooking techniques, water purification strategies, and the art of reading print maps. Concurrently, a dedicated leadership class employed case studies and reflective exercises to hone critical skills such as effective communication, team motivation, and sound decision-making.

Physical training commenced a month before Labor Day, beginning with straightforward activities like pushups, sit-ups, and extended jogs. The regimen progressively escalated to more complex exercises, such as attempting to maneuver a pair of oversized skis across a field with half the team facing forward and the other half backward—with some members blindfolded. Competitions like obstacle course relay races were also incorporated, requiring platoons to strategically position teammates based on their individual strengths and weaknesses.

This comprehensive preparation was followed by an overnight trial hike in Stokes State Forest. Groups meticulously practiced navigation by locating a series of checkpoints manned by upper-level students, which ultimately guided them to their designated campsite. The following week featured a thorough review of the trial hike, analyzing what went well and identifying areas for improvement, often supplemented with targeted training for specific problem areas.

“After all of that, whatever anxiety I had about the trail had pretty much vanished,” says Brooks, now 53. “I looked forward to it as a grand adventure and felt incredibly privileged to have the opportunity to do something that, at that time in my life, I wouldn’t have had access to otherwise.”

Hiking into the Future: Lasting Legacies

Both Brooks and Cassidy attest to the life-altering impact of the St. Benedict’s backpacking trip. For Cassidy, witnessing his teammates surmount their self-doubts and collaboratively achieve a goal that many had initially deemed impossible was a profoundly moving experience. He continued to volunteer with the program as an upperclassman and even returned to assist while in college. These transformative treks inspired him to accept a position as an athletics director and assistant to Payne in 1994.

“There’s something magical that happens out there,” says Cassidy, now 54. Having assumed the role of program director in 2007, he has guided approximately 7,000 students to date. “The experience teaches kids important lessons about who they are, the world, their place in it, and the value of friendship,” he emphasizes. For many students who have never ventured far from the city, gazing at the stars from a mountain summit represents a profound awakening. Helping young people access these formative experiences has become a true calling.

Brooks’ career path, while perhaps more serpentine, followed a similarly inspired trajectory. The trek instilled in him a lifelong passion for nature, wild spaces, and the remarkable sense of calm that descends during a solitary forest walk. These hikes provided a vital counterbalance to the stresses of demanding jobs with major New York City television networks and media companies. As 2020 approached, Brooks found himself increasingly reflecting on his formative years at St. Benedict’s.

“I realized I wanted to reshape my life around being outside and helping kids in urban areas access outdoor recreation opportunities,” he shares. Volunteering with organizations like Outdoor Afro provided him with crucial training certifications, ultimately leading to a position as an adventure and course facilitator with New York City Outward Bound Schools.

“It’s such a full-circle thing for me to be doing,” says Brooks. “But I can tell you, I’ve never gone to bed at night feeling so content—and I almost certainly wouldn’t have gotten here without St. Benedict’s.”

Galo, now a second-year student, harbors equally profound sentiments about her hiking experience. Her background as a dedicated volleyball player and athlete had initially fostered a strong confidence in her physical capabilities. She envisioned herself as the strong one, carrying extra weight for exhausted classmates and offering unwavering support. However, her broken collarbone shattered these preconceived notions. She was relegated to carrying a minimal pack, unable even to tie her own boots or set up her tent. It was her friends who seamlessly stepped in to cover the slack.

“At first, I felt useless and struggled with what my role should be,” says Galo. “Then I realized that I needed to learn how to accept help and felt so much gratitude that my sisters were so gracious about giving it to me. It dawned on me that, while I couldn’t pitch in physically, I could pick them up mentally.”

Consequently, Galo embraced the role of chief cheerleader, hiking alongside friends whose spirits had flagged, reminding them of their remarkable growth and resilience. She led spirited pep talks during breaks and actively encouraged the group to pause and savor the simple beauties of a gurgling creek or a breathtaking 2,000-foot vista.

Galo’s experience was so overwhelmingly positive that she has since become a mentor for first-year students, eagerly volunteering to assist with this year’s hike. She also participated in a transformative summer outdoor learning experience at Grand Teton National Park.

“Being on the trail showed me there was more to life than being in a city, and how to see past all the busyness and noise,” says Galo. While her future life plans remain fluid, one certainty has emerged: she intends to dedicate ample time to the embrace of nature, the majesty of mountains, and the enduring allure of backpacking.