Beginning my Southbound Appalachian Trail Thru-Hike

I’m writing the beginning of this article as I ride a coach bus into downtown Manhattan, New York.

As it pulls away from the curb leaving for Boston, my heart sinks a little bit. “Is this the right one? It’s gotta be. I sure hope so” I tell myself. It’s the third of the trip so far and easily the furthest I’ve ever travelled from home via public transportation. It’s a bit nerve-wracking at first, but once I arrive in whichever town, I feel senses of confidence and excitement. This is every bit a part of the adventure as my upcoming hike, I think.

This time, I’m on my way to Maine to begin my southbound Appalachian Trail thru-hike.

The iconic “gear photo”. Every hikers rite of passage.

It’s exhilarating to know the last 7 years of daydreaming about this trip is finally coming to life. Every bus transfer is another step closer. 

I have a number of reasons for wanting to go southbound (Sobo) from Maine to Georgia versus the classic northbound (Nobo) trek. Many years ago, my friend “Wild Paul” talked about going southbound and walking towards cooler temperatures and the Autumnal solstice. That perspective interests me significantly more than a Mid-Atlantic slog during record-breaking heat waves. Of course my buddy “Pig-Pen” (sobo ’21) also recommended this route.

Additionally I’m going sobo because of my work schedule. I honestly wish I had more time to contribute as a Ridgerunner this year, but any later and I’ll miss Thanksgiving in addition to traversing the Smokies in December (no thanks). It also works out that I’ll finish the last 1/4 of the trail with my hiking partner, “Scatter”, who is working the Nobo portion of her flip-flop thru-hike. 

I’m going to have less social opportunities in comparison to most hikers overall, but that doesn’t really bother me because of the personalized trail magic I have lined up.

I have a lot of trail maintainers, family, and friends lined up to pay a visit. I’m also truly looking forward to seeing all the hikers I met previously this season, probably somewhere in New England. There’s hundreds of you, I know you’re out there. (Sorry if I’ve forgotten names).

Though I already felt confident in my backpacking knowledge, these last two seasons as a Ridgerunner have prepared me for this thru-hike better than any other method possible.

The A.T. somewhere in southern Pennsylvania.

Not only have I gotten first-hand backcountry experience, I’ve been made aware of many mistakes thru-hikers are prone to making and the reality that some severe situations can happen to anyone. It’s helped me learn what not to do, in addition to properly responding to potentially dangerous scenarios. I’ve had Wilderness First Aid training several times over my career, have assisted in search and rescues, and have provided medical assistance to many hikers, generally in unfavorable conditions. Taking care of myself should be easy, though it shouldn’t be glossed over. In any situation, personal safety is always most important. Really, there are no particular goals I want to achieve on this adventure either, besides savoring each moment I’m out here.

I shall be no better nor worse a person for completing this trail. I will be the same person even if I don’t complete it.

When I think about it, I only have two true reasons to be out here. Simply, to express my love and gratitude for the trail, and to teach my children to follow their dreams.

The A.T. somewhere along southern Pennsylvania.

Though I’ve had my share of tough experiences, Ridgerunning still hasn’t tarnished my passion for the wonders of the great outdoors. It feels good knowing I can assist hikers, but on this journey, providing value for others is totally optional and I’m excited to just blend into the hiker crowd for once. 

As I was reflecting over this past Ridgerunning season, it dawned on me I had been riding busses for almost 12 hours.

It set in and I was getting restless – mental endurance, even at the very beginning of the trip. My first bus left Virginia at 5:30am. It’s now close to 5pm and I’m still 7 hours away from my arrival in Bangor. 

We learned our current bus is kind of a dud.

Broken down. Thanks Flix bus/Greyhound.

We’ve had to pull over several times for some mechanical issue. There’s a roadside mechanic following us in-tow, assisting the driver every time the bus shuts off, roughly every 45 seconds, and we have to pull over to the shoulder of the road to amend. We’ve had to vacate the bus during multiple stops due to stagnant air and heat. I’m fairing okay but for some passengers it’s proving to be a legitimate challenge.

It’s a shit-show all around. 

It’s a guarantee I’m going to miss my transfer to Bangor tonight. I know these things happen, but the fashion of the day has been utterly chaotic.

Posted up at the bus station. Pack by LiteAF.

The first bus of the day showed up and immediately took off, assuming there was no line of passengers, though we were all waiting in our vehicles – it was 5am and the “station” was a big empty parking lot, no terminals or platforms. It eventually came back and we were on our way. After a few hours of bus transfers in Washington DC and New York City, I was on my way to Boston.

“One more transfer left”.

The last of the Greyhound busses, and my gateway into New England. Suddenly the bus started to rumble. You could feel the power of the bus suddenly shut off and we were just coasting along freely, without power, at highway speeds. We had to pull over, wait, and then get back on the road after the bus cooled down. Rinse wash, repeat. For the remainder, we cruised around 30mph, but again, the bus would just turn off. While driving. On the highway… We were “30 minutes away” from the bus station for over three hours. The situation was made even worse when Greyhound finally decided to request us Ubers in order to get to the bus station.

We were stranded on the shoulder of the highway, straight up.

Our Uber driver was proud to announce it was her second day ever working as an Uber driver (never a good sign in my experience). Multiple times her phone alerted her of new ride requests to which she would almost stop the car completely in the middle of traffic, while reading the messages. 

Waiting on the bus felt like purgatory.

Two of the other bus passengers, a mother and daughter, were having casual conversation to which the driver “shushed” them, claiming she couldn’t hear the GPS directions through her stereo. She told us “3 minute ETA” several times over the course of 10-15 minutes, due to being lost and making constant wrong turns. 

I’m not trying to drag her name through the mud, but it was arguably the worst way to end the evening after sitting in a hot bus for a few hours surrounded by a group of scorned travellers.

It sucks knowing I’m approximately 14 hours delayed, but I think this is already a lesson learned. Sometimes shit sucks and you just gotta deal with it.

I’m not too fond of sleeping in a train station, but I guess it could be worse. Sure, I have the money for a hotel room, but it’s the principle. Also I am trying to stick to a budget and extra money for a hotel room on the drive up to the hostel was not in the plan. At least I have electricity and a roof over my head. 

The crowd in the bus terminal is interesting to say the least.

Some passengers from the bus are on the phone, furious with Greyhound. I noticed some random guy with a shaved head and a spiderweb tattoo on his neck has been staring at me for a few minutes. Eventually he walked up, called me a f*ggot, and said he would bash my head if I touched him. I responded with a firm “okay” and he sauntered off. There’s a crying child a few benches over. Another passenger from my bus, a guy wearing a matching yellow emoji sweatshirt  and sweatpants, is pacing back and forth. His girlfriend is clearly withdrawing from a substance. The transit authorities have all individually asked me if I have a train ticket or if I’m just homeless and squatting for the night. Here’s hoping I can promptly get out of here at 8am. 

All hail the mighty Concord Coach.

The mother, her daughter, and I hung out together for a while and provided each other great assistance. I helped carry their luggage, they helped me navigate my way through the station. She bought me a sodapop. We managed to get tickets for rides to Maine, this time on different busses, and said our farewells. She’s off to Maine overnight, I’ll be en route, going further north, in the morning. I sat in the train station terminal, hoping I could get some sleep.

**Update** they closed the train station for the evening, and forced me into the streets. I decided I was entirely too tired to make any effort in booking a hotel room. It was around midnight when they forced me out. Boston seems to have a noticeable population of park dwellers, so I figured one more resident for the evening couldn’t hurt. At this point I’m delirious from exhaustion and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Ill sleep on the sidewalk for all I care. I think I’ve only slept maybe 5 of the last 36 hours.

My friends told me this is turning out to be a crazy story already.

Recapping and editing this article from a random park bench at 5am has helped me cope and deal with the frustration. This is just a speed bump in the grand scheme of things. Truly, I’m rich beyond my wildest dreams. Mama K is calling.

Who needs a hotel when you have a “stealth site” like this?