I decided to hike the Appalachian Trail when I was four years old. I didn’t know that it was a two thousand mile continuous path, extending from Georgia to Maine. I didn’t even know that it had a name. All I knew was that I had to go to the beautiful blue mountains that I could see from my backyard. Everyday I would run outside to my swing set and swing as high as I could to get a better view of the horizon. It was my favorite place to go for solitude and to contemplate the mysteries of life. I’d imagine I was up in those mountains walking freely through the woods, completely shrouded in nature. Someday, I would dream, someday.
On March 16, 2014, more than twenty years since my dreaming days, I set out to hike the trail. Equipped with some words of wisdom graciously dispensed to me by former thru-hikers and the unconquerable spirit of my inner child I embarked on a seven month journey. The mountains would become more than simply the backdrop of my life, they would become my home, my world, my reason to believe in the power of a daydream.
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