100 Miles on the Appalachian Trail

Nothing fully prepares you for the trail. Not reading blogs, talking to former hikers, or even listening to podcasts. The trail moves in different ways for everyone.

The night before I started, I couldn’t sleep. My stomach hurt and I was full of nerves. Thoughts swirled: Will I finish? How will this change me? What if I get hurt? I was grateful my dad was joining me, that alone helped slow down the racing “what-ifs.” The moment I stepped on the trail, it all faded. The fear and thoughts were still there, but the adrenaline of beginning took over. It felt right.

The Approach Trail is no joke the steps felt never ending but somehow it felt like the perfect way to begin. As the day went on, it started to feel like a usual day hike. I hadn’t yet realized this would be life for a while. At camp, we settled in and began meeting others with the same goal. Some I’d continue to see, some I’d never cross paths with again. The trail is interesting like that you meet someone for a few hours, learn a lot about them, and then you potentially never see them again.

The next day was different I had to say goodbye to the familiarity of my dad. The parting was quick, but the emotions lingered. Walking alone became a different beast. Thoughts that used to be shared were now only in my own head. The miles felt long, but the beauty was overwhelming crossing creeks, and walking through fog. It was the first time I started to understand what this journey truly meant. That second night at camp brought comfort of familiar faces, stories of why and how others had gotten here

The next few days blurred together wake up, eat breakfast, walk, rest, walk more, snack, set up camp. Learning my limits in those early miles was tough. We all have expectations hiking 20 miles a day, finishing fast but I realized quickly that those weren’t helpful. I had to tune in to how I felt. I listened to my body and focused on my journey.

After a week, with a big rainstorm rolling in, I decided to get off trail and stay at a hiker hostel. I got to connect with those ahead of me and even see a few who were behind me. That first week taught me a lot, I like being alone during the day, I love the conversations at night and I really crave soda. Getting back on trail after a hot shower, laundry, and good food was tough. Even though it was a nero, the adjustment was difficult. My sleeping pad had a hole I still couldn’t find, but even with that, after 8 days, I crossed into North Carolina.

I felt strong and more confident each day. The next morning was magical, sunlight illuminating the landscape, everything glowing. But not long after, thoughts of home started to bubble up. I missed comfort. It was a strange shift from feeling so grateful to wanting nothing more than to be home.

Those next few days were a struggle. But as I interacted with more hikers, the loneliness lifted. I learned to hold both feelings at once. “The trail provides” was something I didn’t fully understand until now. When I felt low, it offered trail magic, good weather, or a funny fellow hiker. I’ve started to recognize what triggers those tough feelings out here what helps, and what doesn’t.

100 miles may feel small out here, but remembering where I began fills me with gratitude. For the body that’s gotten me here, the people who support me, and the strangers who briefly become part of my story. I’m excited for the next 100, reminding myself daily that not every day has to be perfect. That’s what makes this life so unique.

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