I am so excited to announce that I thru hiked the Appalachian Trail and joined the class of 2024!

My Appalachian Trail

I have said this before but the Appalachian Trail is an experience that is impossible to accurately describe. 

Unfortunately, I also said that I would try to do so. 

The trail is so vast and unpredictable. There are several factors that can impact a hiker’s experience, weather, their bubble, physical and mental struggles, and general luck. I can’t speak for everyone, and I wouldn’t dare try. But the experience is so valuable that I believe that to not try and share what it is like with those who haven’t had the opportunity themselves deserves to understand. So I will try and do my best to accurately describe my Appalachian Trail to you. 

Getting A Clear View

Now what makes the trail so indescribable? So hard to understand without putting yourself through the trauma of the trail? So rewarding despite all of the hardships that you hear about?

The hardships of the trail are easy to express. Pain is easy to express if you have the emotional bound to do so. I want to describe everything else. The little things of trail life that are often overlooked. 

When you are hiking the trail it is easy to miss the beauty. It’s like painting. You focus so hard and you get so close to the canvas to see what you are doing. Then you take a step back. You see how the painting interacts within itself. What is crooked or what is outshining the rest of the painting. It looks different from afar. The trail is the same. It’s both the beauty and the difficulty of the trail. When you are hiking, all you can focus on is what is directly in front of you. The mountain you are climbing, the bog you just slipped in, the rock that twisted your ankle. You watch the clock. You look at your map and you see how many more miles you have to hike until you get to camp. Even when you make it to camp, you’re focused on the chores you need to complete. Set up your tent, set up your sleep system, collect water, filter water, make dinner, eat, pack away your food, and go to bed at a good time so you can wake up tomorrow and do the same thing. 

It is so easy to forget the great adventure you are on when the present moment requires so much attention.

It’s A Skill

It takes a conscious effort to take a step back. Look at the trail from afar. It’s a skill that you have to develop and one that I have observed some be better at than others. 

I watched as some hikers get so caught up in the negatives, in only what directly surrounds them that they spoil the overall experience. They complain about everything in front of them, and they hold grudges over what they have already left behind. They work themselves up to the point where they forget about the shiny aspects of the trail. This is a shame and I am not too proud to admit that sometimes I needed a reminder to step back.

I may be explaining this a little muddy. 

I’ll provide a personal example.

One morning I woke up to rain hitting my tent. I pack up in the rain. Despite my best efforts both myself and my pack are wet. I throw on my pack and I start hiking. Rain sucks but usually, it means that the temperature will cool and bugs will vanish. Not this morning. Under my poncho I am sweating, just as soaked on the inside as I am on the outside. I feel as though I am overheating. To make things worse I am still getting bit by mosquitos, gnats are still floating in front of my face. I put on a bug net under my poncho, something that I have never had to do, which only makes me that much hotter. Then the trail changes and I am now also hiking a steep mountain that I didn’t pay any attention to when looking at the map. Because of the rain, I skipped breakfast so I am now hangry as well. This is the situation that I am experiencing. I am stewing in my discomfort and I wonder why I am willingly subjecting myself to this very unique form of torture. 

When you are in a level of discomfort such as this, you aren’t taking a step back.

When I step back, a moment of discomfort such as the one I described is obsolete. When I consider all of the miles, all of the hours that I spent on trail, this was just a blip in the timeline. 

What I See

What I do see is an ever evolving trail. I see the several different ecosystems and environments that I hiked through. Parts of nature that I hadn’t seen despite all of my previous time spent in the outdoors. I discovered new creatures on trail. My favorite animals that I saw on trail were the ones that I had to research. The Eastern Newt, Fishers, Pine Martins, as well as hundreds of birds and bugs. I find comfort in knowing that I will never run out of things to learn about the wilderness.

I see a community that is colorful, committed, strong, and selfless. Everyone has their own story to share. Their own motivations to hike the trail. They have their own knowledge, experience, and tips. I see a level of strength that is unmatched. I see selflessness too. We all struggle on the trail. We all can understand the hardships each other faces without knowing anything about each other. The generosity and the help offered by people who are rationing their own resources, who are tired and in pain themselves is incredible. We take care of each other and we don’t ask questions. The baseline of every relationship is that we are thru hikers. No matter how different we may be from each other, we are bonded by the trail.

My favorite part of the thru hiker community is that every superficial thing about ourselves is stripped away. Our age, gender, race, economic backgrounds, sexual orientation, and even our names. No one is above the other. There is no tier system. Everyone has to earn their respect. All assumptions that you may make about a person or group of people that you may make in the real world are gone. You will find that on the trail that all we care about is whether or not you are a thru hiker. That is all you need to be welcomed into our community. To be loved, cared for, motivated, supported, and protected. To be honest we can even go shallower and say a hiker. We welcome section hikers as well, even the occasion muggle (a term used for people not trying to complete the trail). All we care about is that you have a basic level of respect for the trail, the environment and your fellow hiker. I have never observed another community like this. It is a true representation of a world where everyone is accepted and you can be whoever you want without scrutiny or judgment.

Then there is the general challenge of the trail. It is an absurd thought that a person could and would hike 2,197.4 miles. Sacrifice months of time to live an uncomfortable life. An existence that takes constant effort, mental and physical. It is laughable, to be honest. I did laugh at the thought. Several times on trail I lost all sense and could do nothing but laugh at myself and the challenge that I had signed up for. Even on the summit of Katahdin I couldn’t help but giggle. It is a hell of a lot of work to take a picture with a sign. 

I think that is what makes the trail so unique, how the trail can foster a different society with different norms, rules and boundaries. The concept of hiking a distance like this in a rigorous environment is already so far from the normal. 

Contrasting The Trail

Community building

I once started a friendship with someone because she knocked on my bedroom door in my hostel, walked in, sat on my bed cross legged and introduced herself. In the moment, it was a little weird but it never felt unsafe. She became someone that I am a big fan of. She is gentle and kind and fun and not someone I would have met if she had not intruded my space. This is not something that would be tolerated in real life. If someone were to walk into my house or even my hotel room, my head would ring with alarm bells. We don’t live in a world where you can feel safe around strangers, we are taught to stay away from them and fear when they approach. Not on the trail though. You remain weary but everyone gets a chance.

Food sharing

I truly think that food sharing is the strongest love language on the trail. Whether that be a friend giving you a ramen or a piece of chocolate or a stranger setting up a tailgate on the trail. Food is a valuable resource and one that we can not get enough of. Strangers coming out to the trail to make burgers, hot dogs, chili, soup, tacos, pancakes, and endless desserts, or even just offering Gatorades or sodas is a beautiful thing. It is all voluntary and appreciated. A kind person bringing a simple treat to trail can impact a hikers entire day. It can fix their attitude and help them go further. It is a way of giving and spreading love. We are taught, for good reason, to not accept this kind of generosity in the real world. Food sharing in the real world is taboo, dangerous, or just weird. It is bizarre how on trail it is a way of spreading love and that in society it makes us uncomfortable.

Gratefulness

This was a big topic of conversation my first week on trail. A lot of people were motivated to hike the trail because they were taking their lives for granted. They were too comfortable and in turn, losing appreciation for the world that they were living in. I know this point will likely be lost with a lot of people but thru hikers will understand. There is a beauty of not having access to a shower for 5 days. Because that shower, when you get it, is a spiritual experience. Never will you take for granted a shower, soap, a towel. A basic amenity in society that is sacred on trail. I understand that to call this a beauty of the trail is odd. It is, but it is part of our culture. Appreciation for everything that were offered. Taking every opportunity presented to us to shower, get transported from one location to another, charge our power banks, get dry, sit in a/c or drink something that we didn’t have to filter. It reminds you that life is about small victories. It is the small things that will help you go far.

My Personal Reflection

I have been back in society for over a week now and I have been doing my best to answer peoples questions. To help them understand why I hiked the trail, why I never quit, why I loved it despite the hardships. They ask if I would do it again. I would. Thru hiking is a dirty, hard, tiring, uncomfortable experience that is also colorful, rewarding, beautiful, exciting and absolutely something that I would do again. 

The trail gave me confidence, it taught me how strong I am, how hard I can be pushed. It helped me grow. The girl that stood on top of Springer would not be able to recognize the girl that stood on top of Katahdin. 

The trail gave me a community that surrounded me with a type of love that I haven’t found anywhere else. I talked to people from places I have never been introduced to, I made friendships with people of all ages and backgrounds, and I was supported by a found family with bonds stronger then I have with most people in my life. 

I learned so many things. From how to dry my socks in miserably wet conditions to the difference between hiking the trail and living the trail. 

I fear that I didn’t do the trail justice in this blog. There is beauty in that too. I have experienced an adventure so big, so grand, so unique and so strange that I can’t accurately describe it. I don’t think I will ever be able to. I don’t think I ever want to be able to. 

What Now?

The Appalachian Trail is beautiful. 5 months and 2197.4 miles later and I still didn’t have enough time to put the trail into words. Maybe that means I will have to try again? Thru hike another trail? This year I lived 5 months not knowing what i’d be doing the next day. Even now, I have no idea what is next for me. I just know that I am so excited to find out.

My name is Alex Tucker and I fully invested myself in this endeavor. If you would like to see my time on the trail you can see it all on Instagram @nobo.nomad!