What Makes Me Nervous to Hike the Appalachian Trail (and what I’m doing about it)

Whenever I get ready to tell someone that I’m preparing to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail, I can almost guess (with a decent degree of certainty) that they’re going to say one of the following within the next sixty seconds: “How many friends are going in your group?” “What are you going to do if you see a bear?” “Are you bringing xyz for protection?” While there are dozens more questions, the aforementioned three are the ones I’m most used to, and have answered enough to regurgitate responses. Even though it’s become a routine to answer these questions, I don’t blame anyone for having these curiosities. Before I became interested in hiking the trail, I had the same questions.

I think what it really comes down to is fearing the unknown. I’ve realized that in asking these questions, people are projecting their fears onto me. Thru-hiking is a vast, unknown niche world. The vast majority of people will never personally know someone who has thru-hiked the trail, let alone experience the emotional and physical highs and lows, culture, and camaraderie of a thru-hike for themselves. Most people will never encounter it, so in asking these questions, they tell you what they are afraid of for you.

As I write this, my start date is just around the corner. I have less than a week left of work, and the fact that I’m starting the Appalachian Trail in just a few weeks is getting SO real. Going away parties are being hosted, projects are being wrapped up at work, last minute errands are being run, and my belongings are going into storage. For anyone that’s asked me in the last couple of days how I’m feeling, the answer is that I’m so excited. I feel good. I’m sure that once I arrive at Amicalola the nerves will set in, but for now, I feel good. I’m as prepared as I can be to begin a walk across the country.

However, the reality is, there are things I am nervous about. The irony is that what I’m nervous about is usually vastly different than what other people are nervous about for me. What I’ve learned over the last year and half of preparing for the trail is that it’s okay to be nervous. I don’t care who you are or how many miles you’ve hiked. Toeing the line to a multi-month trip walking across the country with some degree of trepidation is normal, and healthy actually (you’d be crazy not to be). But those nerves shouldn’t stop you. One of my favorite songs on my hiking playlist, “Daydream” by Lily Meola describes this perfectly:

“Darlin’, don’t quit your daydream
It’s your life that you’re making
It ain’t big enough if it doesn’t scare the hell out of you
If it makes you nervous
It’s probably worth it
Why save it for sleep when you could be living your daydream?”

So yes, while I’m counting down the days until I check in at Amicalola, there are still some things in the back of my head about what could go wrong. However, these nerves are calmed when I remember all the steps I’ve taken to do my best to prevent these fears from getting blown out of proportion. These fears don’t sound as scary when I know I’ve done my best to prepare for it.

 

Ticks

While everyone is well meaning in listing out their fears for me on the Appalachian Trail, I always tell them that the one thing that they aren’t afraid of for me that they probably should be is ticks. Ticks run rampant on the trail, and hikers that started in February are already reporting seeing them. Heck, Lyme Disease gets its name from the town Lyme, Connecticut, one of the fourteen states that the trail passes through. Lyme Disease is debilitating enough to not only get someone off trail, but can also have lasting physical and neurological effects if not treated quickly, so it’s definitely something to be taken seriously.

The first step to avoiding Lyme Disease is prevention. I have treated my tent and pack with Permethrin, and plan to spray items again on trail every couple of weeks. For my hiking clothing, I opted to get each piece professionally treated with Permethrin by Insect Shield which claims to last 70 washes. (Bonus of using Permethrin is that it also repels mosquitoes, which are my arch nemesis in the summer. They LOVE to feast on me, (no, really, mosquitoes are attracted to some people more than others) and I break out in giant itchy rashes when they do).

At least once a day (probably more in the summer and when I’m in the densest tick areas in the northern part of the trail), I’ll check myself for ticks. When hiking with a buddy/tramily member, it’s common to do buddy checks on each other. In my first aid kit, I have a set of tweezers so that I can remove a tick if I see it. While not all ticks transmit Lyme, early detection is important and drastically decreases the odds of developing the condition.

Finally, if I do notice a tick embedded/start developing symptoms of Lyme Disease, I’ve gotten a prescription from my doctor for Doxycycline, the antibiotic used to treat Lyme. During my physical last month, my doctor talked me through the signs I should look out for, as well as the dosing for the medicine. As someone who has walked on foot to a urgent care clinic while travelling out of state and without a vehicle, having the medication already with me, for something that could potentially have lasting side effects, gives me great peace of mind.

Injury

Injury is one of the things that scares me most about the trail. I think it’s because I could do everything “right,” and still have a fall that lands the wrong way and causes an issue. I can be pretty clumsy and stumble over my feet sometimes, and my trekking poles have caught me from falling further on more than one occasion. But, I keep reminding myself that having these fears is no way to live. Could I take a tumble on trail? Sure. But could I also trip on something at work or get in a fender bender on the road? Also yes. If we let it, fear can surround our lives, so we can’t allow it the power to debilitate us from doing what we’re called to.

In terms of other injuries, prevention is my focus. I am going to take other hiker’s advice and go slow for my first few weeks out on trail, with the goal of averaging 8-12 miles per day. This experience will encourage me to listen to my body and take zeros as I need them. The last thing I want to do is start with guns blazing right out of the gate and have to get off trail from an overuse injury. Second, I am going to take breaks as needed throughout the day, and plan on starting and ended my day with stretching. I’ve added a small cork massage ball to my kit (weighing a mere 0.7oz) to help me roll out sore muscles and feet. (These are super useful for dealing with plantar fasciitis, which plagues a lot of hikers). Of course I’ll have ibuprofen to use as needed, but I’ll aim to use turmeric pills for the natural anti-inflammatory benefits, which is something I’ve been using pre-trail for years. Similarly, I’ve added krill oil to my diet for the omega-3s, which are also anti-inflammatory, in addition to many other health benefits.

Third, building up my strength is a key factor when preventing an injury. I will be prioritizing protein, and aim to get in a couple different sources a day. I know it likely won’t happen every day, but my goal is to sip on a protein “shake” at the end of each day while I’m setting up my tent. Getting in quality protein within 30-60 minutes after finishing exercise is super important to help generate muscle recovery. I am experimenting with portioning out protein powders from a bulk container into my food pot versus carrying individual packets. We’ll see what works! (PSA, Highly recommend athletes of all levels check out Episode #154 of Backpacker Radio with Nutritionist and Ironman athlete Lauren Capone. I’ve listened to it twice because it was super informative and I genuinely enjoyed the episode!)

Cold

Whenever someone asks if I prefer the hot or cold weather, I’ll pick a sweltering hot day over a day in the 30’s any day. I was just not made for cold weather. My job usually requires me to be outside for at least part of the day, every day, all throughout the year, and I would always rather be sweating than shivering.

My main concern is my hands. I have Raynaud’s Syndrome , which means that the blood vessels in my fingers and toes over constrict when I get cold. If my feet get cold, it’s uncomfortable, but I can deal with it. When it comes to my hands, it’s debilitating, and I have a hard time focusing on anything else. When I first found out that I had Raynaud’s while running winter track in high school, I can remember a few times I was brought to tears on the car ride home because of how much pain my hands were in. Knowing a Raynaud’s attack could really jeopardize my morale on trail, I’ve decided to splurge on the Enlightened Equipment Torrid mittens paired with a Goretex rain shell. I’ve found that mittens keep my hands warmer than gloves since my fingers stay together rather than separate like in gloves, and they make it easier to effectively use a hand warmer. (Also super pumped to recently learn that hand warmers can be reused for a few days if you put them in a sealed bag to starve them of the oxygen!)

Being cold while sleeping is also a concern, so I am starting the trail with a 0 degree down quilt from Enlightened Equipment. Since my last camping trip, I’ve swapped out my sleeping pad for one with a slightly higher R-value, and I’ve also added a 1/8″ foam pad from Gossamer Gear to add the tiniest bit of warmth (and hopefully keep my sleeping pad a bit quieter as I shift around at night).

Wildlife

Back to the fears that everyone else has for me. It seems that everyone is worried about bears. To be honest, I’m really not worried about bears (I can say this comfortably as I sit on my couch) because I know that I will likely see the back end of most of them. Storing my food in my bear canister makes it easy to stow away smellables at night without the hassle of hanging a bear bag. If I’m hiking alone, I tend to purposely make a lot of noise, tapping my trekking poles on rocks and verbally saying “hey bear” every once in a while, so if there is a bear nearby, it hears me and I don’t startle it. What does make me nervous is being in my tent at night and hearing some rustling outside my tent and thinking it’s a bear, when it reality it’s likely an innocent bunny rabbit or deer. I think thinking about this now will hopefully help keep me calm when this does happen on trail.

Now snakes on the other hand are a different story. I really hate snakes. I know there are venomous copperheads and rattlesnakes on the AT, but even harmless garter snakes freak me out just the same. At this point, I’ve just accepted that seeing them is going to be unfortunately just part of hiking the AT. I’m trying to accept that they are part of nature, and I am walking through their home (accepting it and being happy about it are two different things though. Also I sleep with my pack and my shoes inside my tent instead of in my vestibule because of this fear).

“What if no one likes me?”

This wasn’t a fear that I anticipated when preparing to hike the AT. It brings me back to the feelings most kids have before starting kindergarten, high school, and college. It’s funny how after plenty of “first days” in my life, those same fears creep in. Over the last few months, I’ve had fleeting thoughts of “what if I don’t find a group that I get along with to hike with?” “Will my convictions and goals isolate me from a group?” I think this fear comes from naturally being an introvert. While I’ve come to accept it and love it as part of my personality (I am way more observant than most folks, because I don’t feel the need to insert myself into things if I don’t want to), that hasn’t always been the case. School, in particular, praises extroverts, shaming introverts as just being “shy” (which actually isn’t the case. Introverts aren’t necessarily shy, we just tend to gain our energy from being alone/with smaller, more intimate groups of people and find large gatherings emotionally exhausting).

The difference between kindergarten Natalie and Natalie who is getting ready to hike the AT is experience. As I’ve said, I’ve had many “first days” in my life- first days of school, first days of new jobs, first days in a new city where I didn’t know anyone, first time attending meetings/classes. At this point in my life, I can squash those fears and remember that in all of those circumstances, I have made it out positively on the other side, with great groups of new friends that I’ve connected with on all different levels. Because I’ve put myself outside of my comfort zone, I’ve developed lasting friendships with people in all of the above situations. I still talk to two thru hikers I met while I was on a week long section hike last year. I’m going to be okay. I am going to make friends. Nearly three million people step foot on the Appalachian Trail every year. At this present moment, nearly 2,500 have registered NOBO thru hikes with the ATC. I’m know who I am, and that I’m bound click with some of them, just like I have throughout my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will I like it? What does a bad day look like?

I’ve written about this on previous blogs, but the mental aspect of the trail is often touted as the biggest obstacle to overcome on the trail. Worrying that I won’t like it has been a concern, but I’ve decided to shift my mentality on it. Instead of viewing the trail through rose colored glasses, while sitting in the comforts of my home, watching YouTube videos, I’ve reconciled the fact that parts of the trail are going to suck. It can be easy to glamourize the trail experience. While I am super excited to start, acknowledging that there will be bad days ahead of time is half battle. I’m preparing for this now by continuing to be very clear on my why for doing the trail, and I review it often. Even more so, I review my list of what happens if I’m not successful in completing the trail. I want to be really clear on my why as well as what it will feel like/mean for not finishing.

I am blessed to have an amazing support team back home with friends, family, and coworkers. So many people are praying for me and cheering me on. I’ve promised myself that I won’t quit on a bad day. I’ve talked to those closest to me on my support team back at home about what I want them to say and do (when) I call them crying and upset at a bad day. I want them to tell me to get off trail, take a shower, sleep in a real bed, and eat a cheeseburger.  I want them to encourage me with my why lists, quotes, and remind me who I am.

At the end of the day, I know that no matter how prepared I am right now, nothing will ever fully prepare me to walk across the country. And that’s okay. I know things are still going to go wrong, but I’m ready to deal with it. Saint Joan of Arc once said, “I am not afraid, I was born to do this.” So for now, as I count down the days until my feet walk through those Arches in my permethrin treated socks, I’ll keep listening to “Daydream” and making this dream a reality.