A Late Fate to Recreate After a Great Wait

I didn’t grow up with a love of the Appalachian Trail or with any of the skills that are necessary to successfully survive a night in the woods. Sure, I always loved being outside and I played by the creek with my neighbor kids, but my family’s versions of spending time in the great outdoors was relaxing at a beach resort or enduring a marching band rehearsal in the snow. Heck, I didn’t even sleep in a tent for the first time until two weeks after I graduated college. 

In 2018, while working as a consultant, flying 2-3 times a week between different college campuses and living in hotel rooms, I devoured more books than ever before. One of these stories was the infamous A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson (I would love to know how many A.T. hikers exist solely because of the words of this man). Coincidentally, I read this while staying in Pennsylvania, just half an hour from the Appalachian Trail. 

Spoiler… I hiked a different trail that weekend. Still, this new-to-me concept of moving across most of the Eastern U.S. on your own feet had me deeply intrigued. I had never realized such a feat was possible! As a runner of half-marathons, I thought 13.1 was plenty long enough for me.

Throughout the next 8 months, I kept my interest to myself, reading little bits about the Appalachian Trail in my dark and lonely hotel rooms and taking longer and longer walks in state after state. Eventually, I tested my idea of thru-hiking the AT by hesitantly running it by my mom, who believes I can do absolutely anything. While that’s great for my ego, I needed to run it by someone who knew about outdoor challenges and knew about me. Luckily, when I asked him if he thought I could accomplish a thru-hike, his answer was a resounding “maybe, you’ll only know if you try.” Nothing motivates me like the subtle doubt of another person.

Fast Forward…

I spent the next year saving what was left of my travel food stipends, bartending a beer patio all summer, then returning to substitute teaching. To save more money, I moved back in with my mom after 7 years on my own. I told everyone who would listen about my plans and shaped my entire future around thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. 

March 4th of 2020, I began my hike… only to have the metaphorical floor ripped out from under me by COVID-19. As I am this year, I was pretty publicly open about hiking the trail.  While news about C-19 slowly trickled through the Trail community, I really thought I was doing the right thing by keeping to myself, avoiding shelters, and just backpacking through the woods. Eventually, I opened Instagram and was stunned by multiple comments calling me selfish, uneducated, hateful, and uncaring, just for being on the A.T…

Now look, I know their words came either from their love of the Trail and desire to protect it or possibly even jealousy that I was hiking while they were not–most likely, a mixture of both–and we were all doing what we thought was best given the situation that we had no precedent for, but these strangers’ words cut deep. Didn’t they understand I had nowhere else to go? Didn’t they know I had planned this for two years? Couldn’t they understand the sacrifices I had made to be there? I had no car, no apartment, and no job… what was I supposed to do? I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody… Didn’t they know this was my dream? My “only” chance at my dream? Still, day by day, it became more obvious to me that I needed to return to Indiana and wait out whatever might come of C-19. So on April 1st, my mom picked me up, wet and snow-covered, just short of Erwin, TN, wiped me all over with Clorox wipes, and carried me back to her house.

It felt so unfair. I was full of grief. I had considered countless scenarios and endless factors that might halt my thru-hike attempt; I thought I was prepared for anything that might come my way. “Global Pandemic” wasn’t one of those things I had planned for. I kept wondering why now? Why “my year?” This scenario wasn’t in Appalachian Trials. What was I supposed to do? Get a job? Wait it out and return if and when the ATC gave the a-okay? Ultimately, during that time at home, I taught myself how to embroider, found out I’m awful at making bread, got a job with Habitat for Humanity, and dated my now-husband.

So Now it’s 2023…

My dream to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail has been five years in the making. I have more challenges and tie-downs than ever before: a husband, two dogs, two knee surgeries, a car, rent, and leaving a job that I love… yet I am still eager to temporarily relinquish the things that are most important to me so that I may pursue this dream. My dedication to my hike of the A.T. is greater than ever before because, well, I have to be dedicated in order to justify my selfishness and irresponsibility.

Most importantly, through all of my trials, I strengthened my love of the Appalachian Trail and practiced the skills necessary to backpack the backcountry. You don’t have to inherit these things as a child; some of us find them for ourselves as a way of finding ourselves.