15 Pieces of Advice for Future Thru Hikers

It’s been a couple years since I posted here. I have a friend leaving for her AT this week. This is a list of my advice for a future thru hikers.      

1. Dream big. Be willing to fail.

Thru hiking the Appalachian trail, i.e., hiking the entire length of the trail from Georgia to Maine in one go, is no small feat. A thru hike consists of traversing nearly 2200 miles of some of the most rugged terrain in the country. That’s 14 states, 6 million steps, and an elevation gain and loss of half a million feet, equivalent to climbing up and down Mt. Everest 16 times. In other words, the Appalachian Trail is HARD, perhaps one of the hardest things you’ll ever do in your life. If quitting your job, moving out of your apartment, and putting your life of comforts and everyday routines on hold for 6 months so that you can go by yourself and live in the woods scares you a little bit, that’s ok. I would give anything to have what you’re feeling right now, that feeling of excitement and trepidation before your first thru hike.

You have this big dream, that’s great. Now be willing to fail. Understand that out of the thousands of hikers that attempt a thru hike, at least according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, only about 1 in 4 are successful. I’m not sure how accurate these numbers are but nonetheless it’s true that the attrition rate is pretty significant. Have a plan for what to do you don’t make it for whatever reason. How will you feel? Where will you go? What will you do?

2. You are a thru hiker. Own it.

You are a thru hiker, accept it. When someone asks you if you’re actually planning on walking the whole way to Maine, respond with the affirmative and say it with conviction: “Yes, I am hiking to Maine!”

The wrong response: “Well that’s the goal, we’ll see how far I make it.”

3. Don’t quit on a bad day.

Let me be the first one to tell you that it’s ok to quit. Just don’t do it on a bad day. Maybe it’s cold and rainy and you’re starting to feel the “Virginia blues.” Let’s say you’re in the Shenandoah’s and feel like you’re making any progress because you’ve been in Virginia for a month already and you’re still in Virginia. That state never ends. You’re lonely because you’re separated from your friends and hikers that started way after you start passing you up by now. Or perhaps you’re hiking through Pennsylvania in 100-degree heat, you’re dehydrated, and your feet ache because, well, you’re in PA and those rocks hurt your feet. My point is that you will likely have some shitty days out there, and once again, that’s ok. Those are not the days to quit. If it turns out that you reach a point where the trail is no longer enjoyable for you generally, then by all means, end your hike, but do it when you have your friends with you on top of a mountain on a nice day. I’ve seen a hiker make it as far as Connecticut before declaring that he gained whatever experience he wanted from the trail and he was ready to go home. At the time I questioned his judgment, as in my opinion, the best parts of the trail were yet to come. But this guy seemed pretty happy about his decision to get off trail. There was a big group of us in town and we had a little going home party for him.

4. Take candy from strangers.

 

Disregard what they taught you in preschool about taking candy from strangers. Out here you’ll meet people along the way, complete strangers, that are inspired by your journey and think that what you are doing is amazing. They want to help you succeed in this ridiculous goal of yours in whatever way they can. These people will give you candy and snacks on the trail, a ride to town, a warm shower, a bed to sleep, or perhaps a meal. These are called trail angels and what they give you is trail magic. Go ahead and take it. You’ll have the opportunity to provide some trail magic of your own once you’re done.  

5. Hike your own hike.

Perhaps a little cliché by now, but it’s true. Care about other people and how their hike is going but don’t concern yourself so much with how they are doing it. If someone wants to carry an 80lb pack, that’s their deal. If someone wants to yellow blaze up and skip parts of the trail, that’s their choice. Some people will hike way faster or way slower than you and that’s ok. Don’t feel the need to compare yourself to them or modify your hiking style. HOYH, but this doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t s peak up when you see someone violating LNT principles, or being disrespectful to others.

6. No rain, no pain, no Maine.

My walk to Maine was actually pretty dry and pain free but that doesn’t mean it was easy. Walking a couple thousand miles over rugged terrain with half a million feet of elevation gain is hard. It’s hard for everyone. The point here is that if you’re going to get to Maine you will have to endure and hike through conditions that are beyond your comfort level.  Maybe it’s mid afternoon and the last thing you want to do is hike another ten miles but you do it anyways because you’re a thru hiker and that’s what you do.   

7. Don’t plan too much.

 

Leave room for spontaneity. It’s actually really difficult to plan ahead during a thru hike. Maybe you don’t feel like hiking and just want to spend the afternoon hanging out in the stream.

8. Every person you meet has the potential to become a lifelong friend.

Some of the most interesting people I’ve ever met were from the trail. immerse yourself in this trail community and you’ll find yourself part of this eclectic group of people who are fun, creative, smart, talented, and all a little crazy. I hiked with high school kids, a 74-year-old female (AT record holder for oldest female thru hiker), a US astronaut, millionaires, and legit homeless people. Here’s something Bob Peoples, the legendary trail angel / trail maintainer, said to me: “The biggest difference between the friends you’re with now and and those hikers ahead of you or behind you is that you haven’t met them yet.”

9. Everything you carry should be light.

The idea here is pretty simple. The more stuff you have, the heavier your pack weighs and heavy packs are not uncomfortable. Of course, if you want to carry a heavy pack, that’s fine too (see number 5).

10. When faced with a gnarly bushwhack, sometimes the best thing to do is set up camp and deal with that shit in the morning.

You won’t be facing any bushwhacks on the AT but this trail will ultimately ruin your life (see number 15) and you might find yourself uncontrollably binge hiking other trails in the future such as the PNT where you will have to bushwhack. What will you do when you come across a gnarly bushwhack where you have to walk through an impenetrable forest of thick brush, downed trees, and thorns? My suggestion would be to take a break, snack on some wild berries, or just set up camp and deal with that shit in the morning. As much as I number 6 is about having to endure, here I’m saying well, if you can’t, then don’t.  

11. Take photos.

Take lots of photos. And not just of the scenic overlooks, mountain vistas, and idyllic landscapes that you come across but also of those crazy, unique, and amazing people that you’re with (see number 8).

12. Your journey is worth sharing.

I kept this blog while I hiked the AT and then the PNT. But I didn’t post at all when I biked across the country last year and I regret that decision. There were a few reasons why I didn’t blog during my bike trip. First, I knew I would be putting in big mile days and felt I would be overwhelmed with the additional task of trying to document my journey. I was trying to log big mile days because I had made plans to be in certain places by certain times thereby putting deadlines on myself (see number 7). The reality is that I still would have had time to write, just less frequently. Second, I wasn’t confident that I would even finish my trip and unfinished journals are just sad. I did finish though. I guess I just wasn’t wiling to fail so I just never made the commitment to document my trip in the first place (see number 1). And third, I didn’t think my trip was going to be that interesting. My stories from this last trip turned out to be even wilder than the first two. Lesson learned: a human-powered journey of several thousand miles is going to be interesting and worth sharing. You’ll also be less likely to give up if there are others that are invested in watching you finish. Writing also forces you to take time for self reflection. As Benton MacKaye, one of the originators of the Appalachian Trail, says, the purpose of the trail is to “to walk. To see. To see what you see.”

13. Never trust a marmot.

You won’t find them on the AT but you will out west. They are not to be trusted. These creatures are really cute but they don't give a damn about you, your feelings, or your personal property. I learned this the hard way when I was camping in Glacier on the PNT a couple years ago. This marmot came right up to my tent one morning trying to befriend me. As soon as he gained my trust, he walked over and preceded to chew through my trekking pole. I will never forgive him. Lesson learned: Never trust a marmot! As much as number 4 is saying that people are awesome, here I say just be wary of those marmots.

14. The journey is the destination.

Mt. Katahdin. It’s one of the most epic spots on the entire AT and one of my main reasons for hiking the trail in the first place was to get back there. It is indeed my favorite place in the world and while on trail I would dream about it at night. But here’s the thing, once you reach Katahdin, your trip is over and you’re going home. Take your time and enjoy each and every day you spend out there. Cherish all the moments. It’s easy to get caught up thinking about the miles and wanting to be farther up the trail then where you are currently. 

15. The AT will ruin your life.

The trail will change you. You try to go back to a normal life after the trail but it’s weird. From Ellen Goodman: “Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for – in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.” You come home from the trail and purge yourself of all your belongings. Belongings you once thought you needed, you no longer want. Jack Kerouac once said, “If you own a rug, you own too much.” Now you understand exactly what he meant. You find it hard to concern yourself with normal tasks like mowing the lawn or putting on deodorant. It’s just grass, it doesn’t need to be manicured! You miss the trail. Your family and friends back home are eager to hear your trail stories once you return home but that fades away after a first few weeks. However, you still think about the trail every single day. Every. Single. Day. All those trail pictures you have, you don’t even want to look at for a few months because it hurts to too much. You get a job but you don’t find it very exciting and the people you work with aren’t interesting. You start to get stressed out and you quickly lose whatever fitness you had gained while on the trail despite the fact that you continue exercising as much as you can. You go to the gym but it’s hard to find the motivation. Getting up to go to the gym for an hour a day is way harder than getting up and hiking 10 hours a day. The trail exposed to this lifestyle filled with constant adventure and excitement. For you, adventure now a necessity.

Good Luck!