Appalachian Trail

The Granola Desire for Organic

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Nostalgia is one of the most powerful emotions – it can make you feel fully enwraped in a prior moment’s feelings. The echo of past laughter reverberates through your bones, the long-past sense of solace and serenity brings you peace in the present and that nostalgia blankets you.

This can all be brought on with the force of a car crash. You re-feel everything. Close your eyes and you’re there. That moment from years ago is resurrected.

A simple glance at the scars I earned on my thru hike brings back all my days on the Appalachian Trail. It fills me up, warms me and comforts me. At the end of my reverie, though, is a fall from that emotional high. It becomes apparent that all those emotions are past tense. The serenity, joy and peace suddenly leave a synthetic after taste. That momentarily blissful rollercoaster ride leaves me lusting after organic emotions. That nostalgia frees me and begs for me to search for the next earth-shattering personal experience and moment of connection.

Remnants of a Thru Hike

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Coming back from the AT, it seems as though I’ve been plopped in the middle of a bustling street as I wander slowly, a bit lost, through the throngs of people who have a destination. There’s an odd disconnection I feel that can’t really be explained. A trail friend was complaining how it’s been hard to participate in small talk. You can no longer ask people how many miles they did, talk about how gorgeous the view you all passed that day was or what they’re cooking for dinner. Even talking with some friends, I feel slightly off and removed. There’s this fog I’m trying to see through that appears to have no end. I’m stuck in the thick of it. I can hear others, but I can’t quite reach them properly.

As life does, it moves on while you’re gone. People have grown, moved away, gotten married or had children. I think this is all part of some culture shock that should pass as I spend more time away from trail life. Nonetheless, being done with a thru-hike has me feeling these type-a ways:

 

Shoot, it’s time to find a job.

I’ve spent nearly 6 months in the woods occasionally talking to the animals lurking within the forest. There was a stretch of 10 minutes where I did a call and response sequence with some crow on a branch. A crow. Luckily, no one saw me. Unfortunately, it’s clear that some signs point to slight delusion. How am I supposed to dress up, talk properly and impress someone in an interview?

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A Journey or an Accomplishment?

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Everyone says to “enjoy the journey.” I am, but sometimes it’s hard. Now that Katahdin, the final mountain I’ve been walking toward since March, is 220 miles away, I can’t help but want to be there. Friends keep posting their iconic Katahdin summit pictures almost every day, and I would love to be touching the summit of the mountain that initially seemed unreachable.

The other day, I stopped short because the mountains were hard and the day had been long. I threw up my tent atop the beautiful Mount Old Blue, but I felt uneasy. I loved the view, the serenity and the hushed bird chirps, but I couldn’t help but think how I had ended early. Why would I end early when I could’ve made Katahdin 10 miles closer that day? Being tired feels like no excuse right now. It’s almost as if I should simply let my feet walk until I reach the mountain. No sleep, no rest. Just walk. My feet itch to be scraping the sides of the slippery rocks in Baxter State Park. Everything I do that delays the union of my body and Katahdin seems to eat away at me. I don’t want to look back at the Maine section and regret going too fast, but I also want the rush of a goal accomplished.

To help pace me, motivate me and make sure I let myself laugh throughout the final two weeks I’m meeting up with some old trail family (The Four Day Family). They kept it slow, and had some emergency, that has allowed us to be within catching up range. I’ll take a short day into Caratunk, Maine to reunite with them. We’ll tackle the 100 Mile Wilderness and Katahdin together. I’m happy to be getting back with familiar faces. I know they’ll keep me on track mentally, so I can’t wait for Sunday. Here’s to enjoying the journey, but also fighting to accomplish a goal.

Thru Hiking to Happiness

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Self-confidence/self-esteem/happiness with yourself, whatever you want to call it, I’ve struggled with it since those lovely tween years. I could point fingers and say it started with the stereotypical pressures of being a dancer, but some people handle that pressure with the utmost grace. I guess I wasn’t prepped to deal with the constant scrutinization of my weight, body or how much I ate. Teachers would tell me to lose a few pounds and “tone up” despite having a normal figure, and I’d see dancers around me starting to starve themselves and be rewarded for that. We stared at ourselves in mirrors as we danced and saw every tiny flaw that we could possibly perfect whether it be the body or the dance technique. Seeing my imperfections so much, I started dreading being seen or heard by others. I felt insignificant and unworthy.

My insecurity manifests in my daily life as awkwardness, but that’s why you love me, right? I used to weigh myself 5 times a day. I would avoid looking at people so I wouldn’t have to talk. I’d let someone else give their opinion first so that I could pretend to agree with it in hopes that agreeing would save me from putting my own ideas out there. I can thankfully say I’ve improved on these things in the past few years, but my AT thru really has been chicken soup for my insecure soul.

How does taking a simple walk in the woods work such wonders on your mental state? It does sound a bit extreme, I know. Do the trees whisper “you’re amazing, you got this!” as you traipse through the forest? Some might say yes. I know a hiker who thought all the birds tweeting at her were giving her sounds of encouragement. Another hiker I was with laughed and said that he thought their calls were just mocking his ineptitude. Everyone has their own interpretation, clearly, but here’s what has gotten me out of my shell a bit:

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