">
Is Hiking the Appalachian Trail Solo a Terrible Idea?
Spoiler alert: probably not.
The idea of setting out on a multi-month thru-hike can be both exhilarating and daunting, particularly for those considering hiking the Appalachian Trail solo. While the image of solitary days and nights might make you worry about isolation, data from the trail suggests a far more interconnected reality.
Hiking the Appalachian Trail Solo: Initial Solitude vs. Ongoing Trail Community
According to The Trek’s 2024 Thru-Hiker Survey, a significant majority, over two-thirds, of northbound thru-hikers began hiking the Appalachian Trail solo, without pre-arranged hiking partners. However, this initial solitude often proves to be temporary.
The survey indicates that by the end of the trail, the percentage of those hiking alone had decreased to 30%. This shift underscores the trail’s remarkable ability to foster connections among individuals with a shared goal. In short, starting solo doesn’t mean you will hike alone the whole time (unless you’re deliberately seeking solitude).
The Formation of Trail Families (“Tramilies”)
Thru-hiking naturally encourages community. AT hikers frequently encounter one another in shelters, at water sources, and in trail towns, leading to the organic development of tramilies. These informal groups provide mutual support, shared experiences, and friendship amidst the challenges of long-distance hiking. The survey data supports this, revealing that people spent a lot of time around others, such as camping together, even if not necessarily hiking alongside the same people each day.
Beyond simple companionship, the shared intensity of the thru-hiking experience can lead to deeper friendships and relationships. The daily grind of physical exertion, the constant negotiation with unpredictable weather and terrain, and the collective pursuit of a distant goal create a crucible where daily life barriers melt away. Hikers offer practical assistance — sharing food, water, or gear — and emotional encouragement during moments of doubt or exhaustion.
Pros and Cons of Starting With Loved Ones From Before the Trail
Photo: Jess
Don’t get me wrong: plenty of people successfully thru-hike with friends, family, and significant others from before the trail. The AT challenges relationships, but it can also strengthen them — and sharing the trail with loved ones can be an experience to cherish.
But while the allure of beginning the Appalachian Trail with a friend or partner is understandable, it’s important to acknowledge potential drawbacks that can impact the overall thru-hiking experience.
One significant challenge lies in the difficulty of syncing up individuals’ often-differing paces and goals. Hikers naturally settle into different rhythms and may have varying daily mileage targets, which they typically only learn about once they actually start hiking.
Trying to consistently maintain a pace that doesn’t suit one or both people can raise the risk of injury, breed frustration and resentment, and may ultimately lead to the difficult and emotionally taxing decision to separate on the trail. Hiking the Appalachian Trail solo, in contrast, means you will naturally sync up with other hikers who are moving at about the same pace.
Furthermore, the demanding nature of a thru-hike, with its constant physical and mental challenges, can place significant stress on pre-existing relationship dynamics. Minor icks and irritants that might be easily overlooked in everyday life can become magnified in the backcountry, turning into significant sources of conflict.
Finally, hikers who embark on the journey with a friend may inadvertently limit their social engagement with the wider trail community. Relying on the established comfort of their partner, they might be less inclined to actively interact with other hikers met along the way, potentially missing out on the rich tapestry of perspectives, shared experiences, and the formation of new friendships.
Hiking the Appalachian Trail Solo: Embracing the Potential of a Solo Start
Beginning the Appalachian Trail alone does not mean you’ll have a solitary experience. Instead, it often opens the door to a unique and dynamic social landscape where connections are formed organically based on shared experiences and mutual support. The data suggests that while many start their journey as individuals, the trail itself fosters a strong sense of community and offers plenty of opportunities to create a supportive network that endures throughout the miles.
If you’re dreaming of a thru-hike but can’t get anyone to go with you, don’t let that stop you. Setting out on the white blazes feels a lot like the first day of Kindergarten: everyone is there for a shared purpose, and it’s easy to make friends if you want to.
Featured image: Graphic design by Zack Goldmann.
This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!
To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.
Comments 7
I hiked over 7,000 miles with my ex wife. I never hiked alone until I did my SoBo yo-yo of the AT and the LT last year, meaning I had never really hiked alone. I loved my 5400 miles of solitude. I’d hike with people a day or two here and there, but ultimately I had the trail to myself all winter long. The freedom of solitude is addictive once you accept it.
If you through hike, you’re never alone, being in “the wave.” My spouse worried about me being alone on the AT, but I was never alone in a shelter at night and I passed by dozens of people every day on the trail. And for weeks at a time, I would hike the same pace as others and it would be a great social experience, then I or the others would have a zero day or go to town and I would make a new “tramily” of different hikers- a great social experience. But solo hiking means I am in charge of my hike (“Hike your own trail”).
Now am section hiking the trail (don’t have the months of time) and I am “off schedule” meaning I specifically hike sections when I know the wave will have passed and there have been many evenings alone at shelters and although I see someone every day on the trail, there are not the groups of people on the trail. It’s a different experience-a solo experience. it’s not the social experience of a through hike- although I do hike with a person or two for days or a week. I have seen more wildlife. And I maybe I’m imagining, but I think the trail is cleaner.
The experiences are different and both experience are great.
I’m a firm believer in the long solo hike.
I thru-hiked the AT solo in ’24. I didn’t hike a single day with a partner. I started a SOBO FlipFlop in the last of the season’s late snow in March from Harper’s Ferry to the beginning of the Springer Mountain approach trail. I could hike for days without seeing anyone. I camped alone, mostly wilderness camping. I never woke up with another camper anywhere insight. I never slept in a shelter, hostel, or hotel. I hiked the first 500 miles over about 35 days, seeing few people, as the woods turned from barren brown to leafy green.
The only hikers I passed were all NOBO. I had the trail mostly to myself from Harper’s Ferry until I hit the NOBO bubble just south of Damascus, then passed many hikers over a couple of weeks. The weather was warm by this time and Blood Mountain was crowded with day hikers. From Neel Gap to the beginning of the approach trail, I ran into several late start stragglers, carrying huge packs full of useless gear, about to learn the lessons of all beginners.
After I finished the first half, I jumped to Maine. I climbed Katahdin weeks before the NOBO bubble, and weeks after the SOBO starters. Now I was in between crowds and alone again. I passed one other hiker on day 2 of 7 days in the 100 Mile Wilderness. He started his SOBO way too late at Katahdin. He was exhausted, overwhelmed, and looking for a way off the trail. I found a logging road on my Garmin so he could hike out on flat easy ground. He was the last I would see for 10 days.
By the time I hit the NOBO bubble again, the numbers were really diminished a lot, mostly groups and pairs, spread apart by a few weeks in distance. These were the light, lean, hikers. The ones with tape on their shoes and gear. The silent, sweaty, hairy ones that passed in a hurried limp without talk. The ones that stunk of BO, Ramen, and determination, from 100 yards downwind. The ones that would make it. From there, I only passed a few thru-hikers in the heat from Pennsylvania back to Harper’s Ferry Virginia, with one stretch about 200 miles over 12 days without seeing anyone on the trail.
If I was starting again tomorrow, I would probably do it the same way. If you like complete solitude and isolation, I would recommend hiking a FlipFlop the way I did.
Olah Slowdrag- that was a very well written and informative post, thank you for sharing. You should write more! I’ll bite- what is the origin of your trail name!
I am not formerly trained in the academic arts, so I’m sure my literary skills fall short, but thank you for the compliment.
The name is self imposed, and intentionally self-deprecating. I was in the US Navy, then military contractor in a former life. My job was described as “High Speed, Low Drag”. Over the years, I have just been reduced to “SlowDrag”.
Sorry. Apparently my spell check here is going to the default instead of of my corrections. I guess I should proof read better.
I set out on my thru-hike of the AT knowing I would be alone. It was an incredibly freeing and empowering experience to only have to make decisions for myself where only my opinions mattered. I didn’t have to ask a partner, “Should we stop here for the night?” or “Do you mind if we take this side trail to the scenic overlook?” I could decide everything! Good or bad, my decisions only affected myself.
Sure, I met hundreds of people along the way, and I will fondly remember them. My husband joined me for the first 70 miles in Georgia, a few miles again in Virginia and Massachusetts, and then he joined me for the final push of the 100-mile wilderness and Katahdin summit. I was thrilled to have him along, but also believe the months-long absence made our relationship stronger. And… his short times of hiking with me stoked his desire to thru-hike. When he does, I’ll be his support system as he was for me.
Solo thru-hiking changed me for the better forever. I am far more patient, content, and willing to find the good in people. My mental resilience was pushed to the limit on trail, and I came out stronger than I ever thought I could be. I found that I can do difficult things on my own. I’m so grateful the trail exists. I never would have tapped into this depth of strength without it.