Huffhike

For so much of my life I have dreamt of hiking the Appalachian Trail. I watched every video, read every book, and listened to every story from my brother Logan or other former thru-hikers. Holding onto each word, hoping and praying that one day that would be me. Like most people, each spring I would find a reason not to attempt the trail. Some of the reasons were valid, others were merely a concealment of my lack of confidence in myself.

That all changed last fall. After much consideration, I reached out to my employers to request a meeting with them to discuss my future with the company. After a brief chat I informed them of my intention to thru-hike the AT in April; fully anticipating them to move on due to my decision. However, after a few weeks of deliberation they discussed that they would welcome me back to work after I completed the trail. Something I am incredibly grateful for.

Knowing the cost of the trail, and not wanting to touch my savings I began planning. I cut down my spending to a bare minimum, picked up a second job, and began planning my resupply boxes to reduce the cost of the trail.

As the seasons changed, my training increased. I went from walking irregularly and running daily, to walking several miles daily with weight on my back to prepare for the trail. On top of that I began to introduce yoga and stretching into my daily routine. At some points rolling and stretching in between hockey games and practices, rather than reading.

Before I knew it, it was April and I found myself at Logan International airport, finally running down the dream I’ve had for so long. After being driven to Amicalola Falls by Matt and Damsel, I walked the 7 mile approach trail to the summit of Springer Mountain where I was met with the first white blaze.

Those blazes became my compass for the next 5 months, leading me through 14 states and 2,197.8 miles. But more importantly those rectangles led me to a better version of myself. Becoming that person did not happen by starting the trail or even ending the trail. It was built through the daily challenges that the trail provides.

Each state I was faced by a new challenge. But the challenges never caused me to quit the trail. Nor did they ever seem more stressful than the challenges that I would face back in the “real” world.

For a while I believed that maybe the trail was just naturally where I belonged. Which to an extent is true. If you do any bit of research into forest bathing, or the positive benefits of being outdoors you’ll find countless examples of how nature “heals” us. From the way that the sound of moving water can relax you to the way that trees can lower your Cortisol levels.

But sitting here today, I think the reason why minor “real” world events felt more severe than trail events was the general confidence I felt in myself.

In North Carolina, I had a run in where a bear stole my food bag. Which left me more than 20 miles outside of a hitchable road without any food. If I had sat there and panicked then a misstep could have been a trip ender. Instead I took a breath and told myself I’d figure it out. Sure enough, I called a hostel, booked a bunk, pushed miles and eventually I made it to The Grove Hostel and kept heading north with a cool story.

However, in the real world prior to the Appalachian Trail I would find myself in situations where a minor work event or life event felt like the end of the road.

But just as the trail’s challenges shaped me into a better version of myself, the community and love I found along the way taught me so much about myself and who I want to be post trail.

So much of the trail is built on community. I could not count the number of times that I received some form of “trail magic” from strangers or other hikers who went out of their way to help me. They didn’t do it for money or for some recognition. They instead do it because they want to help.

For me the most clear cut example of this was in Virginia. I was in a stretch that was pretty remote to stores and my portable charger had died. After failing to get a ride into town a fellow thru-hiker Shera gave me a portable charger and declined anything outside of “passing” along trail magic. By doing so, cutting down their own battery storage in half. That allowed me to make it to the next hostel where I bought a new portable power bank.

In so much of our world we face division in every facet of life. Social media feeds that are designed to feed off of negative emotions and reactions to increase revenue, sporting events where they sell an idea of “us” versus them, policies being determined by the color of someone’s tie instead of the best idea.

But that division never lasts when we remove ourselves from the forces that create it. I think that the trail naturally removes you from the sources that create that division. In doing so, it opens you up to see how much of our world is built on community. Cars pulling over to allow an ambulance to cut through traffic, strangers jump starting a stranger’s car. Even me getting here was built on community. For me to even attempt this trail it meant that my coworker’s workload would increase, my parents needing to send boxes out to me, friends and family meeting me to do gear switches, and so much more.

As I continued to walk north the seasons changed. Eventually,  I found myself in Maine climbing Mount Katahdin. As I took the last steps of the Appalachian Trail I was met with an immense feeling of emotion. I was sad that this chapter of my life was coming to a close, but excited to be entering a new chapter.

A chapter in which I have a better sense of who I am, and where I want to be.

I think the great Tom Petty put it best in his hit song Wildflowers.

“You belong somewhere you feel free”

It is a simple lyric but it captures what I want to pursue in the next chapter of my life. I want to live my life in pursuit of the same feeling of freedom that the trail provided me. Maybe that means continuing to work for a company where I feel respected and cared for. Maybe it means pursuing my Triple Crown. Maybe someday it means buying property in Vermont and starting a hostel and farm.

I don’t know exactly what my life will look like yet. But I think that’s part of what the trail taught me.

The physical place you are in doesn’t determine how free you feel. It’s your choices you make every day, your mindset, and being present, that makes you feel free.

For five months, the white blazes gave me a direction to follow. Now, it is up to me to figure out where I go next.