AT Musings: Finding my footing as spring rolls in

Notes from my first ~170ish miles on the Appalachian Trail*

*This is the first blog of a series to be had as I hike the Appalachian Trail. Currently writing this from Fontana Dam Shelter, NC, MM 166.2! I apologize if the formatting is wonky; all I have is my phone and a finicky Substack app. #minimalism

After roughly two years of planning and a few more spent dreaming, I embarked on the Appalachian Trail on April 1 in the mountains of north Georgia. I’m soon to enter the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, so it felt like a nice moment to reflect on my time on the trail so far: excitement & disbelief, soreness & gear adjustments, and the full-fledged emergence of Spring!

The Appalachian Trail presents an enticing adventure: travel a large part of the US, by way of the longest hiking-only footpath, on the backs of some of the oldest mountains in the world…and connect with all kinds of free-spirited people. It is also a significant challenge, in both mental and physical aisles: hiking and camping every day in rugged terrains for nearly six months. It’s not for everyone, and the first two hundred miles of the trail is for finding your footing — roughly 20% of all thru-hikers quit by the Smokies — and getting on with it.

Even after just 17 days on trail, the culture of the AT has presented itself to me in many ways. From trail magic, acts of kindness in the form of strangers handing out free food/goods to thru-hikers, to hearing others’ unique backstories for why they’re here, it is easy to feel the pulse of the trail and the deep appreciation many hold for these mountains. A number of folks I’ve hiked and camped with have returned to the trail after a previous stint on the AT, eager to experience the magic again. The hiking is just the tip of the iceberg — the Appalachians and their trail have a deeply entrenched culture.

I’ve met all kinds of folks drawn to this trail. There are retirees like “Not Yet” and her miracle dog River, and Scott AKA “Trail & Error”, who are living out long-held ambitions of hiking the AT, as well as Doctor Poptart, who has already encouraged me to slow down and enjoy every second I spend out here. I heard someone say that a day on trail can feel like weeks in “real life”. When you have lots of time and folks with genuine intentionality, it is easy to connect far beyond typical small talk.

Some hikers have trail names, while others are still in the works. Due to my shaved head, earrings, rain kilt and yoga stretches, I have been given the trail name “Monk”. Two separate men asked me if I was a “Buddhist monk or something”, and the name stuck fast. I’ve taken to the name and am striving to embody the compassion and patience of a Buddhist monk each day (keyword: trying).

I’m also lucky to be experiencing the immense natural beauty of these mountains. Most exciting right now is the fast-paced emergence of spring across the forests. I get a front row seat watching the season come into fruition, and I’ve been using some plant/bird identification apps to learn more about the budding wildflowers and chattering Appalachian birds!

In a tale of blind optimism and hubris, a few nights ago I decided to camp atop Albert Mountain next to the old fire tower. The spot has panoramic views of the Blue Ridge mountains, I had filled up all my water vessels before the ascent, and it was time to re-live Jack Kerouac’s “Desolation Peak”!

But Mother Nature had other plans. While I looked eastward into endless mountains, a behemoth thunderstorm rolled in from the west, and before I knew it, hail the size of golf balls peppered me from above. I believe I might’ve seen god in the form of a split second thunder-lightning crash, but the sunrise the following morning made it all worth it. You live and you learn, I suppose, and at least I have a good story to tell…!

"...I beheld with rapture and astonishment a sublimely awful scene of power and magnificence, a world of mountains piled upon mountains." — William Bartram, 1775.

All of this to say: what a wonderful life it is to have a sole obligation of hiking northward each day. I’ve felt free and curious since starting this journey, and I am excited to continue staying present and focused on each footstep. At times I’ve faced extreme physical challenges, and it is easy to get stuck in a thought spiral about past encounters, relationships, and mistakes. But rekindling my meditation practice has helped regain focus on this special journey, along with ensuring that I’ve eaten, hydrated, and rested enough to have a conscious mind. If I’ve learned anything so far, it’s that the mind-body connection is extremely important out here. I intend to explore this subject further on another day.

Thanks for tuning in to my musings! I’ll be posting here whenever it feels right, so I cannot reliably provide a regular cadence for these observations. But I’ll leave you all with a piece of advice my friend John sent me the other day:

As long as you are making the plan, and trying to do it as well as you can… that is the recipe!

Until next time / happy trails,

Monk / Max