From Appalachian Trail thru-hiker to innkeeper, Dianne Seger found her way back to the path

Dianne Seger retired in 2019 and within days had stepped foot on the revered Appalachian Trail, thru-hiking it over seven months. While she finished that fall, punctuating her feat at the northern terminus on Mount Katahdin in Maine, her trail story in actuality had miles to go.

Now, like a wildflower dependent on the right conditions to emerge, her experiences over those 2,100-plus miles have germinated and produced: Something new on the trail and something new for the former Minnesotan.

Feeling the gravity of her epic achievement and its place, Seger has gone back to the Appalachian Trail, or A.T., in a different capacity.

About a year ago, she bought an old-but-renovated farmhouse with five bedrooms in the small trail town of Damascus, Va. In May she opened it to hikers and others passing through: Lady Di's Bed & Breakfast, named so after her trail name, is opened for business.

Seger acknowledged that the seeds of her new adventure likely were planted in 2019, but working in hospitality wasn't on her mind.

"I have this belief that sometimes you are in alignment with the universe and sometimes you're not," she said Tuesday from her new digs in Damascus, population 800. "And sometimes it is not on your time.

"There are about half a dozen times in my life, where I knew, this was the right thing to do. … Call it spiritual. Or call it self-confidence. Or call it insanity."

Seger, 66, returned to Minnesota and her home in Plymouth after completing her A.T. thru-hike in October 2019. While reacclimating to modern life and thinking about her next steps (she had plans to work part-time jobs, among other things), COVID-19 struck. Suddenly social distancing from friends and family and seeing her job plans unravel, Seger said her mind returned to the trail.

In October 2020, Seger decided to visit Damascus and do a bit of hiking. Set in the Appalachian Mountains, the town is 471 miles from the A.T.'s southern terminus in northern Georgia. There was something about Damascus. She recalled her stop in town and popping off-trail into others like it as she navigated north. She also remembers seeing little farmhouses or bungalows while she was en route to a much-needed bed and shower at a motel or hostel. Some, she thought, could be perfect for hikers. In retrospect, she said, her overnights off-trail — some lowly and some more accommodating — gave her a sense of what foot travelers need.

"I was shopping in my head but without a dedicated plan for that at all. Just kind of the notion of it," Seger recalled.

Now, back in Damascus, a spruced-up house for sale caught her eye. It was big; 2,700 square feet, with five bedrooms and four bathrooms.

"I immediately tried to talk myself out of it," she said. "I went home, and it rented a bunch of space in my head."

Seger knows the needs of the weary hiker opting for a solid night's sleep and a good reset. She feeds robust breakfasts and sends people off with backpacks full of freshly laundered trail wear. (In a nod to Minnesota, she passes out "loaner clothes" covered with logos of the state's sports teams.)

A worthy leap

Damascus residents have welcomed her, Seger said, and it makes sense. She has A.T. cachet, and the town proclaims itself "Trail Town, USA," not only for the A.T., but other trails that come through, like U.S. Bicycle Route 76, a cross-country route that runs from Oregon to Virginia.

Her reputation for a clean place with good food and room to relax has spread.

Hikers have found Lady Di and her photo-friendly Labrador retriever "Duke of Damascus." She can house 14 and routinely filled her place through summer. No doubt that will continue. According to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, more than 3 million people hike some part of the trail annually; among them, about 3,000 will attempt a thru-hike.

Seger thinks the A.T. is "a great social leveler," rattling off members of that tramily that she's encountered, from welders to dermatologists to world-class athletes out for a long walk in the woods. Identifiers like vocation are burned away by trail life when all that matters is what you are doing — climbing the next peak or finding the next water source.

"One of my daughters told my sister, 'Mom found her peeps,'" Seger said.

Indeed. Seger is back on the trail in another form. Roots planted.

Like her thru-hike to mark retirement, when friends thought she was brave while the other half thought she was foolhardy, her B&B is another leap of faith.

"I am having a ball," Seger said. "I am having a ball."