Retrospective – Life Three Months Later

 

What the hell was I thinking? This is the thought that keeps coming into my head every time I think about my thru-hiking experience. Seriously, in what universe could I have possibly thought this was a good idea?

Sure, for years, I always thought I wanted to do a thru-hike, but that was a pipe dream. I never really took steps, outside of day hikes, to actually attain that goal. I was a desk jockey, slowly growing unhealthy as I was handcuffed to my desk with my stressful career.

Then I got laid off, with the perfect three-month prep window to gear up before a mid-March start, and I didn’t think twice. I didn’t carefully evaluate the ins and outs of whether it was a good idea. I didn’t sit down and plan or really think about what I was signing up for. I didn’t read blogs of others who had done it; I just started buying gear and getting ready.
I announced it to my friends. I signed up as a blogger for The Trek. I set the train in motion, and that was that. I did everything in my power to make it so I could not just back out.

Best frickin’ mistake of my life… so far. I can only hope that I can screw up this big again at some point in the future.

Big Wins

It turns out that, despite the rough times—and if you’ve been reading this blog, you had a front-row seat to some intense misery—I had a great time. I made lifelong friends, improved my health, and learned a lot about what I’m capable of. I fought through pain, heat, stings, and torrential rain. I became at home in the forest and in my own skin.

I relied on my skills to start fires and forage wild edibles. I plotted how many miles to walk each day and how long it would take to get to the next shower (err, resupply point). But this wasn’t your typical grocery shopping; if you didn’t bring enough, you would be in trouble. If you brought too much, you’d suffer under the weight of the excess. It was a fine-tuned balancing act that resulted in more than one nervous breakdown in grocery stores.

Every morning, no matter how much it hurt, how tired you were, or how cranky you felt, you kept going. Forward, always moving forward—probably one of the more important life lessons. Just push yourself every day, and you can achieve something amazing.

Thru-hiking is a humbling experience. It puts things in perspective. Suddenly, the trivial problems of the “real” world seemed so insignificant compared to the sheer determination it took to hike mile after mile, day after day.

Never Alone:

Because of the blog, I was able to take friends and internet strangers with me on the journey, and your feedback and comments have been inspiring. I love the threads where people commented that they either liked my blog because they always wanted to do this hike or that they liked the blog because they “never ever, ever” would want to do the hike.
What they saw was the magical world of the thru-hiker. It’s a family; it’s a cult; it’s a community. You become part of a club that has one entry criterion: you took a few months off your life and went on a very long walk. It transcends race, wealth, gender, and age; nothing mattered. Out there, you were bonded in blood, sweat, and tears—bonds that can only be forged by enduring extreme physical and mental challenges together.

Adding up the Little Things

Each day was just a walk; on its own, it wasn’t much at all. But by the time more than six months had passed, it wasn’t just a bunch of hikes; it was an incredible achievement. Something I can look back on forever and say, “It was me; I did that!!!”
Somehow, putting one foot in front of the other, day after day, inspired other people in my life. They challenged themselves to be better and told me about it. After all, isn’t that all we can really do? Take each day as an opportunity to improve?
So what does it all mean?

In the last shelter on the AT, somebody wrote in the logbook that “this is by far the most noble and yet most pointless thing I’ve ever done.” Those words have stuck with me. I didn’t cure cancer; I wasn’t building houses with Habitat for Humanity; I was just walking. Somehow, I feel that the impact of that walk may have had a broader reach than just myself and those I hiked with. I’m different now, and maybe some of you have been affected too.

It’ll take years and even decades to truly understand the impact of this hike on all facets of my life, and I’m not in a rush to dig into those mysteries. For now, even three months later, I’m still basking in the afterglow of having completed such an inspiring journey.

Giving Thanks

For today, I’m giving thanks—thanks that I didn’t take the time to think too much about whether I should actually do this, and thankful I’m far too stubborn to have given up when the trail was beating me down.

Thanks to the amazing community around the trail. Thanks to the trail angels and trail maintainers. Thank you for all the trail magic. Thanks to the other hikers for being awesome. Thanks to all the people who picked up random, smelly hitchhikers and conveyed us safely to our destination. Thanks to everyone on and off the trail who made this experience more meaningful. So many people are part of this community, and all of you made my experience better.

 

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Comments 7

  • Ellen R : Jan 12th

    Loved the “what was I thinking?” Comment. We have all had those moments but most of us didn’t hike 2200+ miles. I am glad you didn’t hesitate to venture into the woods and take us along with you. I hope your foot pain has healed up. Thanks again for posting.

    Reply
  • Henry : Jan 12th

    “You become part of a club that has one entry criterion: you took a few months off your life and went on a very long walk. It transcends race, wealth, gender, and age; nothing mattered.”

    Really enjoyed your writing style. And the above is so true, and one of the things I really enjoyed about the trail.

    Reply
  • Jenny L : Jan 13th

    I’m so glad you made “the best fricken mistake”. I am very grateful you shared your journey with us. I love your writing and really loved your photos. Especially the ones of the different fungi in all their various colors and forms. I had no idea there was such variety.
    I wish you wonder in all future adventures.

    Reply
  • thetentman : Jan 13th

    Thank you Caroline.

    Do it again.

    Cheers!

    Reply
  • Rushmore : Jan 13th

    Great summation! Keep doing crazy things!

    Reply
  • Chris : Jan 13th

    Your blog was SO fun to read. Even when you were miserable, you added humor. I do hope us readers will get the chance to go along on another adventure (err,.. mistake?) with you.

    Reply
  • Holly : Jan 13th

    I really enjoyed your posts and your close up photos. I enjoyed your somewhat stoic perspective. I hope your transitioning back to real life goes well, I think it would be really challenging and strange. Best wishes.

    Reply

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