YEAH, I READ WILD BUT...

This isn't that kind of story. I realize that, for many people, it makes sense that a young woman would have to experience some serious trauma or a heroine addiction to want to spend several months in the woods, but for me, it is the opposite. Hiking has always been near the heart of the very best parts of my life.

I have found that a stereotype holds that long distance hikers are damaged in some way, unfit for normal life. (My favorite example of this reaction came halfway through my first massage in years. The masseuse literally laughed out loud -for at least 45 seconds- when I told her that I would be hiking the AT this year. It was awkward. I couldn't exactly leave.)

Unfortunately, I think Cheryl Strayed's bestselling novel, despite addressing her personal transformation, does a lot to perpetuate this misunderstanding. Perhaps it is our body odor or the way we have stepped out of the traditional timeline of achievements that causes people to wonder what it is we are walking away from. Do we have a drinking problem? Or difficulty holding down a job? Or an unhappy family life? Or a chip on our shoulders? Certainly some hikers do, but I think the majority of these people who have carved out a few months to walk the length of the country are more concerned with walking into something, not away from it.

They stumbled into the wilderness and discovered a second home there. They went for a walk and found a meditation.

Growing up, I fell in love with the mountains and forests of the Southern Appalachians. I still remember the first time I grasped the concept of thru hiking. By the time I was thirteen, I had bumped into the Appalachian Trail a few times on our way up Clingman's Dome or at the Nantahala Outdoor Center. However, I had no appreciation for its scale until I visited the Happy Hiker, an outfitter in Gatlinburg, TN that has since gone out of business. The store had blanketed their back wall in polaroids of thru hikers, taken on the summit of Mount Katahdin and signed with their trail name, completion date, and a thank you for the socks, shoes, or backpack that helped them to complete their trip. "2000 Miles" they wrote. "Georgia to Maine!" It was enormous and yet somehow possible. They had done it. Maybe I could too.

From that time on, I began to read memoirs about the trail, hung a four-foot map of it in my teenage bedroom, went on weekend trips with my dad or friends, and imagined a time when I would finally set out on my own thru hike.

The trail became both a metaphor for the kind of person I wanted to grow up to be -adventurous, well-travelled, athletic, unconventional, and bold- and the catalyst for making that woman a reality. Hikes have provided some of my most important self exploration where my anxieties are laid to rest and I can feel comfortable being myself, but the trail has also given me opportunities to bond and heal with loved ones, make friendships I value still, and meet the most important partner of my life. I know already that retreating into the wilderness can't help but smooth out my rough edges, tear open my heart, and reintroduce me to the majesty of creation, and I yearn for it. The question is: what else will it do?

#AppalachianTrail #Hiking #Wild