In short, I continuously hiked 2,181 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine -- over the course of 5 months & 18 days (4/03 - 9/21).
But A LOT happened in those 5 months and 18 days. More things than I can begin to put into words. Magical things. Happy things. Sad things. Frustrating things. Things that have definitely changed me. I feel confident in saying that I had the experience of a lifetime while thru hiking the AT. And now it's over so quickly -- leaving me scrambling to come to terms with what I just did for the past 5 months and 18 days. You would think that being on the trail day in and day out, I would have plenty of time to think about it. Truth is, I spent most of my time entertaining whatever came to my mind, watching where I placed my feet and hands (especially in NH & ME) and not analyzing my thru hike -- because it wasn't over. I wanted to be in the moment. But now is the time for reflection.
The beauty of a thru hike is of many things. Entertaining whatever comes to your mind is quite liberating. Just being able to think. Free of any distractions and outside influences. No television, no music, no games. If a sad thought came to my mind, I thought about why I was sad... connecting the dots in my past; whether I wanted to or not. But all of what I mentioned above is geared towards when I was by myself -- whether hiking or alone in my tent. What about the social aspect of the trail?
The AT has an awesome subculture that has now sucked me in for good. All the trail angels, the trail magic, the festivals... it's down-right magical. But you might be asking yourself what's so magical about a bunch of strangers and this mysterious Appalachian Trail? Magical because it was strangers, yes, strangers, that did nice things for other strangers. Whether it was a past thru hiker providing trail magic to a prospecting thru hiker, a hiker helping another hiker, or someone that knew very little about the AT but gave me rides in and out of town. Or the woman in Tyringham, Massachusetts that let me sit on her porch so I could take a break out of the pouring rain. Or the family that took in nine hikers so we could all wait out hurricane Irene. There's SO many acts of kindness that I experienced in the past 5 months that it restored my faith in humanity. And that's another thing that's magical about the AT... you rarely get acts of kindness and the sense of community elsewhere that is similar.
However, there is one thing about a thru hike that bothers me. It's that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole. I try to remember back to the start of my journey in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee. It seems so far away -- because it is. I hiked for almost 6 months!! Even though I can easily remember what went on in the "early days", I can't fathom how the trail started to change me back then. When I was in GA, NC, and TN the grand ol' times just rolled along endlessly. The South was loaded with awesome food, seemingly endless trail magic, lofty mountains, hospitality, Trail Days in Damascus, VA (enough said), and the list goes on. The South will always have a special place in my heart because, for me, the subculture of the AT is the strongest in the South. I attribute this to thousands of hikers that start in Georgia and try to successfully thru hike. As I moved Northward up the trail, the amount of thru hikers were less and less. Many folks don't make it because of how they're tested. And it wasn't until the long days in Virginia and the trial and tribulation days in Pennsylvania that I started to be tested.
When I say that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole, it's the people I met (from all over the world), the fun times, the sad times, the mental, physical, and emotional strain. What did I obtain from it all? To be honest, I don't have an answer right this instant as to how the trail has changed me for the long run. As for adjusting to "normal" society since being home for a few days... everything is an overload and I'm sometimes frustrated that things aren't always as simple as just being out on the trail.. Even when I was on the trail and would go into town I would be overwhelmed by the amount of choices in food and beverages. Now that I'm done my thru hike for good, I'm still overwhelmed but appreciate the amount of variety.
Times were a lot simpler back then.. I remember the days of misery when a simple can of Coke perked me up. I remember the kindness of strangers leaving drinking water at road crossings when there wasn't any water for miles. When I think back on my hike, the pain, the suffering, the misery, the loneliness... they're not the first to come to mind. I mainly remember how goofy we all were, how uniting the trail can be, and how alive I felt. It amazes me that when I wanted to quit -- there were multiple times -- I remembered the invigorating, strong, and steady wind on top of the balds in the South where you could see for miles in every direction. I remembered just how far I had come, in distance and in myself. I remembered the good times with the bad ones... The breathtaking scenery... How a bad day could so easily melt away when you looked for the magic in life. That's why I marched on. I felt so alive. I rarely woke up with Maine or Katahdin on my mind. No.. I took it day by day. Savoring each memory as it was being made. The AT made me realize that I should cherish every moment. -- If life is one continuous journey, then the ups and the downs are a critical part of the experience. You can gain something from everything. Even if you're being tested to the breaking point.
For me, this journey was never really about Maine or Katahdin. No... I wanted to see the nooks and crannies of small town America, tucked away in the mountains. I wanted to see breath-taking scenery and have an awesome time doing it. I simply wanted an adventure that reduced life to it's simplest forms. i.e. My interactions with people meant a lot more when I was on the trail. No one had any hidden agendas. It was just good ol' fashioned conversation and interaction. Now that it's all over, I miss it. I really do. Just the fact that I was only # 372 out of thousands that tried to reach Katahdin, ME from Springer Mt., GA shows the difficulty of this journey. My friends on the trail certainly made each day more memorable. And aside from how simple life is on the trail, I'll miss my friends just as much.
Nonetheless, it was the experience of a lifetime.
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| KATAHDIN. Northern terminus of the AT. Georgia to Maine. |
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