It took me a while to get it put together, but after 4 months I have finally put together a photo recap of my 2014 thru hike of the Appalachian Trail.
Then, check out my Appalachian Trail Thru-Hike Before and After Gear List Here.
A nice little gallery of some of my favorites pictures from the Appalachian Trail. Photos courtesy of myself, Kyle Flood, AeLin Compton, and Tolin Hessell. Click on a picture to view a slideshow!
Fording is not something often done on the Appalachian Trail. A ford is when you are crossing a river, and it is shallow enough for you to wade across.
Maine is where most hikers encounter their first ford. When I hiked through Maine almost every ford was so low that it was possible to stone hop my way across. My hiking partner and I passed every ford this way, each time feeling lucky that we didn’t have to get our clothing wet. Most hikers know about the fords well in advance, and are not excited about the prospect of getting wet, especially in Maine in October.
Maine in October is pretty cold by the way…
We thought we were in the clear and continued on our merry way entering the 100-mile wilderness and quickly approaching Katahdin and the end of our hike. Five miles short of the base of the mountain hikers cross over the Nesowadnehunk Stream. On the day we reached it, it had been raining heavily all night and the river was swollen and raging.
Just before reaching the river there had been a high-water bypass trail but we ignored it. We could have gone back to it, but being typical thru hikers, going back the ¼ mile to go around was out of the question. I waded up to my waist before I realized I would be swept away if I went further. In the end I used some boulders and a very slippery tree branch to precariously pick my way across. Ford semi-avoided.
Afterwards, the sun started to poke through the clouds and even though my feet were soaked, I was happy to be close to my final destination. Had I taken the time to read the guidebook that morning, however, I would have seen that the high-water bypass trail took you around not one but two fords.
Oops.
Finally a REAL ford
By the time we reached the second ford, it was too late, we had to go across.
This one was wider and deeper. A few hikers with long legs were able to make it across a very treacherous looking rock hop that I did not want to risk. Slipping on a rock meant falling in and soaking my belongings, and a possible injury. I looked around the river for about 45 minutes, walking up and down the shore-line, through bushes and over trees, for a possible crossing.
About 100 yards upstream I found a spot where the water was calm, but deep. I was irritated and just wanted to get across so I decided that this was my best shot. I took off my pack and shirt and held them above my head with one arm as I probed the depth of the water with my trekking pole in the other. Slowly I made my way across as the water level rose up to my chest. On the opposite side was a steep bank and I had to throw my pack up onto shore and use a tree root to haul myself out of the water.
There are a few times towards the end of a thru hike when you realize just how mentally tough and physically fit you have become as a result of walking through the wilderness for six months. You feel that you are in the best shape of your life and literally nothing can stop you because you now are so strong and powerful.
Even in the midst of something so suckish as wading through freezing chest deep water, there is a raging lunatic deep inside you that is having the time of their life.
When I reached the other side of the shore I let that raging lunatic free, whooping and yelling with a smile on my face. I realized that I was a super-woman. Never had I felt like such a badass. The temperature was in the fifties, yet here I was, hauling myself out of an icy cold river in shorts and a sports bra. Wet and triumphant I rejoined my group as we continued at breakneck speed to our campsite at the base of Katahdin.
I recently read a great article on AppalachianTrials.com about getting over post trail depression, “Your 4-Step Checklist to Recovering from Post-Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker Depression.” The article talks about something that most thru-hikers know they will have to deal with when returning home. It inspired me to talk about how I have been dealing with the post trail blues, and what I am doing about it.
No More Katahdin
In the article I mentioned, the author points out that, even though they have done a lot since coming home, they feel like they have done absolutely nothing. In day-to-day life, there is typically no visible forward progress. There is no Katahdin looming ahead of you, as you chip away at it relentlessly. You may be making forward progress, but you still wake up in the same place everyday.
I started experiencing this almost immediately after coming off of the trail, accompanied by an actual fear of under-accomplishment. I realized that I was afraid of wasting my life. I had just experienced the limits of what I was capable of, so now what? I have to sit around and look for jobs? I have to go to the same place and do the same things everyday? INSIDE?? For me, this has been one of the biggest obstacles of returning to normal life.
Different Perspectives
You come back to a world where most people’s priorities lie in things like television and fashion, and the news reports awful acts of violence. You came from a world where your priorities were food and shelter. Everyone worked together. Life was very simple.
To give you an idea of what I mean, here is a quote from Kyle’s blog about realizing his new priorities:
“Part of my motivation for coming out here was feeling stuck in a rut, a daily and weekly grind, and wanting freedom from the constraints of living within day to day society. And freedom I have found. Heaps of it. The cost of which, I am realizing, is not being able to exercise the freedoms that living within society provides for. Fast and easy transportation, readily available food, showers, sanctuary from mosquitoes. A roof. This experience has shed a light on that which I have taken for granted. So be thankful, and reflect upon the wonder of being able to turn a knob and have clean running water flow from a pipe, without needing to hike .3 miles down and back up a steep hill, or spend 10 minutes filtering it.”
You now have a different perspective of the world. One of the first things I noticed when I returned home was the difference between others and myself. People seemed stressed…twitchy almost. Running around trying to accomplish things that, to me, didn’t seem all that important. It was like being in an asylum and realizing that you used to live there, and are expected to return.
Lack of understanding
Just like I struggled to understand other people’s priorities, most people will never understand the immense accomplishment that thru-hikers have achieved.
The other day a woman asked me how I found the strength to hike everyday if I was drinking and partying every night. Wait, what? Clearly this woman had no idea what we had actually been doing, and she also made some pretty astounding assumptions about my hiking partner and me. It hurt because her lack of understanding, in that moment, had completely undercut my sense of accomplishment.
Unless you want to come off as rude/pushy/annoying, this is something that most hikers just have to deal with. You can answer questions and misconceptions politely, but a rant about what it really means to “hike the trail” is likely to skim right over this person’s head. This is a tough one to swallow. You have to accept that there are people out there who are going to assume/misunderstand/look down upon something that meant a lot to you and that you spent 6 months of your life working to achieve.
What I have done to help combat Post Trail Depression
Set a Goal
I realized that aside from a job, I needed to have something to work on that would make me feel accomplished. I decided that my goal would be to continue blogging about my experiences. My current goal is to publish one post a week. With this goal I can see visible improvements. It is also a great way to put down my experiences in writing while they are still fresh in my mind.
Stay Active
Working out in the sunshine all day is great, but once you are back to work it just isn’t feasible. In order to stay active, I decided to join an MMA class. I have previous experience with Karate and I know what an amazing workout it can be. Joining a class helps me get my ass in gear when I don’t feel like working out. It provides a sense of responsibility to show up and work hard.
Talk it Out With Your Trail Buddies
I have been talking a lot with my hiking buddies about what it feels like to be home again. It’s nice to realize that other people are in the same boat, and to talk about different ways people are dealing with it.
Plan your next Adventure
I have officially started planning my next adventure! It will be a nine-day road trip from Philadelphia, PA to Breckenridge, CO and back again along 2 different routes. I will get to see states that I have never been to, and meet up with friends out west! Whenever I am feeling down, I can start researching what to do on my trip and I feel instantly better.
Have you ever felt down? Tell me what you have done to combat the blues.
Bears are not the biggest danger on the AT
People like to ask me what the scariest thing that happened to me on the trail was. They have visions of me fighting off bears or running away from crazy hill people. First off, in my experience bears are super terrified of people. I saw 3 or 4 bears on the entire trail and they all took off as fast as their fat paws could take them. I managed to get a butt shot of one as it was running away. Oh, and the only crazy hill people I saw also happened to be the same people that I was hiking with, myself included.
The scariest things out there are the ones you can’t control
The most dangerous and scary thing that happened to me on the trail had to do with the weather. During a thru hike, you realize that there is nothing you can do about cruddy weather. You are going to get wet no matter what and you just keep marching on. We faced rain and sleet in the Smokies, high winds in the Whites, thunderstorms in the Summer, and rain all the time. In the mid-atlantic in the summertime thunderstorms are a common occurrence. You can always tell when a thunderstorm is brewing. You watch the sky get dark and feel the wind pick up. The air seems heavy and you wonder where you will be when the storm hits. Most times there is no where to go, you are in the wilderness and the most you can hope is that you are under tree cover when the lightning starts.
Besides that, there is often no where to go. Nowhere to run and hide, no shelter to keep you safe and dry. This equates to a complete and utter feeling of helplessness. There is a thump in your chest when you realize that there is nothing you can do. You have to face the elements and take what it has to give you. We had hiked in thunderstorms over mountains, through valleys and fields, none of which are recommended, but we did it anyway, and we were fine. With those experiences behind us we felt like we could brave any weather.
The Situation
It was early July and the days were hot and long. During this time most thru hikers are somewhere in the lowlands between West Virginia and New York. In Summer, thru hikers enjoy lighter packs and combined with flat terrain, BIG miles. No mountains to climb. light and fast. 20 plus miles a day.
Mac and I had made our way to Tumbling Run shelters in southern Pennsylvania. It was a nice area with two small 4-person lean-tos and a covered picnic table. It was around dinner time we decided it would be no problem to stop and eat before continuing on another 7 miles before calling it quits for the day. There had been reports from day hikers of possible thunderstorms in the evening, but we had some serious ground to make up.
Recently we had been on a mission. When checking the shelter logs, we could see that a group of our friends were only about 10 miles ahead. We hadn’t seem them for over a month and we were hot on their trail. There was only one problem, when you are trying to catch up with someone that is 10 miles ahead of you and also hiking 20 miles a day, it can be tough or almost impossible to catch them.
As we were eating our customary mac and cheese with tuna, the shelter caretakers showed up with some trail magic. Cold soda and some snacks. Amazing. We chatted with them a bit and they confirmed that the weather was supposed to turn bad. As we spoke we looked up at the sky and saw that there were dark clouds coming towards us from the West.
Mac and I discussed our plan. It was too early to stop for the day and besides we were trying to catch our buddies! A little rain wouldn’t kill us.
Braving the Storm
As we were getting ready to leave, the storm was visibly closer. Heavy air and dark clouds. I set off first because Mac was still eating. He was faster than me so i knew he would catch up fairly quickly. I was moving fast hoping we may be able to outrun the worst of it. About 1/4 mile from the shelter the wind started to blow faster. We had hiked in the rain so many times before, and this would be no different I told myself. It was hot out and the rain would feel good. By the time we reached the next shelter our clothes would be as dry as they were like to get this time of year.
As I hiked the trail took me upwards at a manageable incline. The wind blew again, this time harder, and I prepared myself for a heavy rain. It would hit any minute now and I thought about putting on my pack cover. I looked to the West and was a little nervous when I saw how quickly the storm was rushing towards me. A curtain of grey was speeding at me so fast that I was afraid it would knock me over. I panicked. There was no time for rain jackets or pack covers. There was no time for anything. The only thing I could think to do was hug the nearest tree and brace for impact. I threw myself at a large tree on my left just as the rain hit. Sheets of water poured from the sky and the wind seemed to create a vortex around me. I had been wrong, there was something different about this storm. It’s veracity, its speed, the wind and the sheer amount of rain. As the first wave hit, leaves and sticks began to fall, then branches, then bigger branches until it seemed that I had been enveloped in a whirlwind of falling trees.
I couldn’t continue on. Up ahead I heard crashes as trees fell. It was too dangerous. A gust of wind tore a branch off of my tree, whipping it across the trail. In a few short seconds the trail became covered in branches and debris. I looked back the way I had come and realized that I could make a run for the shelter I had just come from. I was about 1/4 mile away and it was all downhill. I looked and listened for falling branches and trees. The rain was blinding and the wind threatened to bowl me over. I ran, or more like flew. I used my trekking poles to vault over obstacles easily covering 5 foot distances one leap at a time.
The Comfort of a Roof
I saw the shelter through the trees as I reached the bottom of the hill. I whipped around a turn and threw myself inside. Mac was waiting and he looked at me wide eyed.
“Thank god you had the same idea as me, I didn’t wanna hike in this,” he laughed.
I looked back at him completely out of breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I took a minute to think about what had happened and decided to respond in the most level headed and realistic way I could.
“I almost just died! Trees were falling everywhere around me!”
Okay, so I may have exaggerated a little. Maybe I didn’t almost die, but my adrenaline was turned up to a hundred and I had been terrified. Mac and I made the decision to spend the night at the shelter. We watched the rest of the storm under the roof of the tiny 4-person shelter with two other hikers.
The next day as we hiked, we kicked branches out of our way and climbed over and around massive fallen trees. We made it to Caledonia State Park, excited to destroy their concession stand, only to find that they had lost power due to the storm. Concessions were closed. We were devastated. They were throwing away perfectly good food that needed to be kept cold. A dumpster full of food can look like a buffet to a hungry hiker…Ash but that’s a story for another time.
So, whats your scariest or most dangerous hiking moment?
Not quite a hotel, hostels are a place where a traveler can rest for cheap. It usually involves bunk rooms, communal showers, and a caretaker that can make or break your stay.
Hostels are placed all along the AT corridor in towns both big and small. They are an alternative to a hotel when there are none, or if you are trying to save money. Some will even give you discounts if you need to stay multiple days due to an injury.
The hostels on the AT are specially suited for hikers. Often they will sell gear or food that hikers are looking for. Some even offer shuttles and options to slackpack (they hold on to your gear while you hike).
Each hostel is vastly different. They will cost anywhere between nothing and 50 per night, with most being somewhere in between.
My first impression of a hostel was in Hiawassee, GA at the newly opened Top of Georgia Hostel. A short walk from the trail, it seemed like the easiest option for someone still learning the ins and outs of hiking the trail. Unfortunately my first impression was not a good one. With an extremely overbearing owner and strict shuttle schedules to go into town, I was stressed out and annoyed.
Luckily I decided to give hostels another chance. Coming out of Great Smoky Mountain National Park hikers are exhausted and starving. Most have spent the better part of 5 or 6 days hiking on some of the toughest terrain thus far on the trail. I was in need of a rest and was excited to reach Standing Bear Hostel.
Few things could have prepared me for this rustic experience. Standing bear is an old farmstead converted into a hostel. There are freestanding buildings that got converted into bunkrooms, outdoor showers, and a basin to hand wash your laundry. Chickens and dogs (and hikers) roam freely about the property.
Standing Bear Farm Hostel
Just outside of Roan Mountain, TN we were told to visit Mountain Harbour B&B/Hostel. The word on the trail was that this place had the best breakfast the world had to offer.
The weather was nice so we decided to save money by taking a camp site on their property. We set up our tents next to a quiet stream and commenced our nightly chores. In the morning we headed up to the main house for breakfast.
We had been hiking for just about 2 months at this point and I can only describe this from the POV of someone that has been living in the WOODS .We entered the owners living room where the air was warm (HEAT!!!) and the TV was playing (the WEATHER CHANNEL!). On the tables sat REAL silverware, dishes and glasses!
I poured myself a cup of coffee and watched as a woman (angel?) prepared a feast. To this day I swear that this is one of the best breakfasts I have ever eaten. If I could one day be as good of a cook as this woman, my life would be complete.
The goodies included, (all made from scratch BTW), home fries, biscuits, gravy, eggs, corn tamales (baked in the husk) rhubarb jelly, pancakes, apple butter, and breakfast tacos with sausage.
Would I go back? In a heartbeat. In fact I would hike the 400 miles from Springer Mountain to experience that breakfast again.
Mountain Harbour B&B Breakfast
There are some people that offer places to stay for free. One of my favorites was Chet’s Place in Lincoln, NH. Not listed in any guide books, you have to rely on locals and other hikers to guide you there.
After 2 days in the park I found myself exhausted and for the first time thinking about quitting. The Whites were ripping me a new one. After reaching Chet’s place we decided to take a whole day off. Chet was accommodating and kind and just what I needed to recover and get my ass back on the trail.
A few weeks later we came across The Farmhouse Hostel in Rangeley, Maine. It is a new hostel (as of 2014), run by Stacy and Shane, two of the nicest people you will ever meet. For a decent price they can boast some of the nicest accommodations on the trail.
Comfy beds with white sheets (yes they trust us hikers with WHITE sheets!), and a full kitchen complete with utensils and other cookware. They offer slackpacking and shuttles into Rangeley. The only bad part was having to leave!
While not really a hostel, I want to mention Upper Goose Pond Cabin in Massachusetts. Only accessible by hiking in, this AMC run "shelter" has bunks with mattresses and a seasonal caretaker that makes pancakes!
Those are some of my most memorable hostel experiences. There are many hostels along the trail that I didn't get to experience, but I'm sure that are all equally as memorable. The only way to know is to get out there and see for yourself!
It was cold. Very cold. The night before entering Maine, the Rough Ryders and a few others crammed into a small shelter on the eastern edge of New Hampshire. As the sun set the temperature dropped. Flecks of rain turned into sleet.
It was only mid-September and the day before had been bright and sunny. We’d been relaxing and playing soccer in the town of Hanover. Jackets had been mailed ahead and a chance to buy warmer clothes passed up. As we sat shivering in the shelter that night, one thought was prevalent; we should have finished this trip sooner. But as we would find out in the next 3 weeks, our timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
The next day we entered Maine in frigid temperatures. Bundled in all of the clothes we had, our trail family, made up of 7 now, sat around the signpost that welcomed us to Maine as we ate lunch. That day ended up being a short one. The following day we were heading for the Mahoosic Notch, notoriously known as the most difficult mile on the entire trail.
With such cold and rainy temperatures, this mile of trail threatened to be miserable. Or it could have been. That morning was slightly warmer and the ground was dry. Heading into the notch with all of my friends made it feel more like a playground than the death trap that it was.
And so we went. Those first few days in Maine set the stage for the rest of our trip. We stayed together with our trail family. Even the worst days were made better by the fact that we had a supportive community of friends all around us.
To raise eachother’s spirits, we took to walking in a large group and took turns telling movies from start to finish.
I believe I interrupted Tinder’s telling of “28 Days Later” to take this picture
The cold weather gave way to some warmer days. The leaves began to change. As we neared the end of our journey falls colors were in full array. After 2000 miles and countless views we would look around at a sea of color and still be amazed. The beautiful views of orange and red made us realize that our timing couldn’t have been better. Finishing earlier would have meant missing the beauty of fall in Maine.
Appreciating the view – Mount Katahdin towers in the distance
On October 6th, the Rough Ryders consisting of Mac, Hustle and Flow, Tinder and Birch, Snorlax, and Myself, joined by SugarDaddy (Andrew!) summited Mount Katahdin. As we neared the top everybody stopped to wait and make sure that the whole group could summit at the same time.
Sugar Daddy had brought us a giant bottle of champagne. There were many people at the summit, thru and day hikers alike. Everyone stepped aside to watch as I shook the bottle and attempted to pop the cork. I took a second to look around at all of the faces. I saw friends and strangers and everyone with a smile on their face. Afterwards, there were hugs, congratulations, many many pictures, and some tears.
Over the next few days, we said goodbye to our friends. It was not easy to say goodbye to the people that had become our family. We had woken up with the same group every day for the last month and a half and had been together on the good days and the bad, the tough climbs and the easy downhills. We had spent hours hiking together in a straight line telling stories and reciting our favorite movies. We had worked together to complete one of the biggest accomplishments of our lives.
The Rough Ryders and others celebrating our hike
Mac and Kat best buddies!
In the video, I open a bottle of champagne while a park ranger cheers me on.
In recent years, the practice of opening a bottle of champagne on Mount Katahdin has become somewhat controversial. Some were cited for littering because of it.
So, while I no longer encourage the practice, it doesn’t stop the moment in the video below from being one of the happiest moments in my life.
I want to say thank you to everyone who helped me accomplish this goal. Friends, family, the Rough Ryders, and a very special thank you to my very supportive husband Andrew and to my amazing hiking partner Kyle. Without you guys, this would not have been possible. THANK YOU!!!
My eyes opened at the sound of Hustle’s alarm. I debated on whether or not I should go back to sleep. I heard Hustle starting to fidget in his hammock. I wanted to watch the sunrise too, but it was so cold out and my sleeping bag was so warm.
The recent rain had brought the temperatures unseasonably low. That night it had dipped into the low forties. Traditionally thru hikers request that their cold weather gear be sent back to them in Hanover, New Hampshire. We were still in Vermont however, and many of us had been reduced to shivering next to a campfire every evening in shorts and a t-shirt.
I could hear the sound of Hustle’s footsteps as he walked up the steps of the fire tower. I gathered my courage and threw off my warm sleeping bag. By the time I reached the base of the tower a few others had joined the march to the top.
I looked over at Mac’s tent and wondered if I should wake him up. Mac had made the poor decision of setting up his tent directly beneath the fire tower. He was probably already awake from the sound of the metal stairs clanging beneath our feet as we walked to the top. I decided to leave him alone and started to make my way up.
The sun was minutes away from rising above the line of mountains in the distance. The sunset the night before had been astounding and the sunrise was promising to be even better. We were in the Green Mountains of Vermont and for the first time in over 1000 miles we had a panoramic view of mountains, lakes, trees, and not a single town or road in sight.
We were watching as the sun first poked over the top of the mountains. A “woahhh” went up by the onlookers followed by giggles. Mac made an appearance and we took pictures and videos as the sun rose.
Many went back to sleep afterwards, but Mac and I decided to get an early start. It was a beautiful day and even though temperatures at night were cold, the daytime temperatures were perfect for hiking.
We summited Stratton mountain later in the afternoon and finished the day at 19 miles. We were happy to be back in the mountains, and excited to see what was to come.
We are finally making our way through the state of Pennsylvania. We have been lucky to see friends and family every weekend for the past three weeks.
Being in familiar places makes leaving to get back on the trail very difficult. The comfort of a familiar bed, and seeing loved ones and then having to say goodbye for a tent and mosquitos is never fun.
But once we are back on the trail we always end up feeling good and making miles.
Until next time!
We have reached Harpers Ferry! The historic town is known as the half way point between springer mountain and Katahdin.
On the way, we hit mile markers 900 and 1000. We were lucky to hit mile 900 while hiking with Andrew, who has taken the trail name Sugar Daddy.
Mile 1000 was reached 7 days later at 6am.
The same day we hit 1000 miles, we finally crossed out of Virginia after spending over a month in the state that has over 500 miles of trail in it.
We are now hiking 20 mile days regularly, and our packs are getting lighter and lighter as we try to push our miles.
Now that we are close to our home state of Pennsylvania we are planning a few days off to see friends and family before making the final push to Maine.
