The AT Has No Views? Please.

(Days 31 to 45)

To the Bewilderment of a West Coast REI Employee

Close your eyes as we travel back in time. (Ok, well don’t actually close your eyes because then you can’t read this.)

But imagine that you are entering a flashback, you know, like they do in the movies.

The year? – 2023

The month? – September

The location? – San Francisco, California

Set the scene: It is Labor Day weekend, and REI’s annual Labor Day sale is kicking off. A very (over) eager Dema has convinced her friends Valerie and Fidel to meet her at the store right around when it opens to ensure they can, in fact, get all the best deals.

This is Dema’s “Black Friday” after all, so she envisions massive crowds of shoppers ready to break down the doors to clear out the store. There were maybe three other people there, and that might be including the REI employees themselves.

She quickly identifies the gear she has had her eye on for months. You see, this is particularly exciting because she’s not purchasing new gear to use on just any weekend backpacking trip. No, this is the gear that will shelter and support her through her first ever thru-hike attempt. Since committing to pursue this adventure back in July 2023 when she registered her planned start date with the ATC, she had been in a deep rabbit hole of research to determine what gear she would be upgrading for this endeavor. 

Me and my Copper Spur HV UL1 living happily together on trail

Copper Spur HV UL1 in tow, she giddly makes her way to the check-out counter. Making small talk with the cashier, as one does, Dema excitedly explains that this purchase is in preparation for an Appalachian Trail thru-hike. To which the REI employee, clearly confused by this revelation, says… 

Why would you hike the Appalachian Trail when you have the Pacific Crest Trail? You could have VIEWS.

A dramatic reenactment of Dema’s face in that moment, or at least what she was feeling on the inside.

Country Roads, Take Me Home

Look, I get it. The west coast is alluring. West coast, best coast… it is hard to argue with a hella catchy rhyme. I myself have been under the spell of west coast elitism.

Growing up in Maryland, all I wanted was to get OUT of Maryland. Desperately. I went to University of Maryland – College Park for undergrad (reasonably priced higher education >>> desire to flee the state), but through graduate school I found my opportunity for escape. I applied and was accepted to University of California, Berkeley and much to my parents’ dismay, decided to move all the way across the country. 

I don’t think I was running from something so much as I was searching for something (and yes, I am aware I used the term “flee” in the previous paragraph). The oldest daughter of a tight-knit Greek-American family left very little room to grow and explore. I love my family dearly, but I needed the space to discover who I was independent of them. And let’s be real – there were times that even California wasn’t far enough away! (Here’s to the cycle breakers!)

Me, circa 2020 on one of my first backpacking trips.

California is where I began backpacking and fell in love with backcountry camping. The autonomy of relying on myself and confidence I had to build to go out into nature was empowering. I was far from wild, but tapped into a part of me that is authentic and adventurous and brave. I nurtured that part of me as much as I could and have grown into a version of myself that I am in awe of and love deeply. I projected all of these positive experiences of freedom and growth onto the west coast and for a while felt it was superior to what I had come from.

After living most of my twenties in California, I decided I was ready to move closer to Maryland. I had established a great community in the Bay Area, but my family and oldest friends were all back east. When my nearly decade-long relationship ended, I found myself with a future wide open. So I made the journey home.

You Find What You Look For

Now you may be wondering what all of this has to do with hiking. Well, I see my thru-hike as a homecoming of sorts. I am returning to a familar place as a new version of me, and consequently, I get to take it all in with fresh eyes. That’s why the comments about the AT having no views struck such a nerve with me. Yes, it is not the Pacific Crest Trail. It doesn’t go through expansive deserts or ranges of alpine mountains. It doesn’t have constant sweeping views of wildnerness, untouched by mankind. But, it is beautiful in its own right.

The AT is the AT, and it doesn’t need to be compared to any of the other long trails out there to prove its grandeur. It is 2000+ miles of trees and valleys and creeks and waterfalls and balds and rolling green fields. To discount the beauty of this place is a great disservice. Sure, it is easy to write it off as the “green tunnel” afterall, how many leaves can one person really enjoy? But then you are missing the whole spirit of the place.

It isn’t meant to just be about picture perfect views. I find that the real treat of thru-hiking is the connectedness to nature, and the awe of walking the longest hiking-only footpath in the world. I mean, how incredible is that? I have walked 4 of 14 states so far and over 700 miles, and I am constantly finding new things to appreciate.

There are very famous views like the Virginia Triple Crown (Dragon’s Tooth, McAfee Knob, and Tinker Cliffs) which I just passed through, but there is also beauty in the every day sights. Little critters hiding along the trail. Noticing the way the light hits the tree canopy and how that evolves throughout the day. Wildflowers of all colors popping up. Waves upon waves of ferns.

It is easy to say the AT has no views, but how hard are you really looking? Or rather are you really open to see it?

“Good for you for giving yourself this gift!”

One of my favorite things about my on-trail life is receiving notes and letters from my friends and family back home – often accompanied by fancy backpacker meals and sweet treats. (I am deeply spoiled by my loved ones). These notes are the most precious thing that I carry. Recently, I received a surprise package from my boyfriend’s mom, in which she wrote little notes on Post-Its on each item. In my favorite one, she said that this was the adventure of a lifetime, and “Good for you for giving yourself this gift”!

That really resonated with me. I had never thought about it in that way, but this truly is a gift to myself. It is instilling a deeper sense of self and assuredness. I really wonder how anyone can be out on the trail every day and not see what a gift it is to be able to be here. Yes, I am gross and sweaty. Yes, my feet hurt – often. Yes, I am hungry almost all of the time.

But what a joy and a privilege it is to be back on my home coast, appreciating it truly for the first time and being connected and in sync with nature. There is wonder in travel, but there’s also a beauty in coming home. 

(Fun fact, John Denver wrote “Take Me Home, Country Roads” about Maryland… look it up)