Life is full of lesson, or so I believe. And when you complete an Appalachian Trail thru hike, you get a lot of them. Many of my lessons were regarding hiking. How to pitch a tent and not wake up to water in your sleeping bag. When to use Body Glide. The perfect time frame to call a hostel for a bed.
But I also learned a lot about life on my hike. Here’s five practical lessons I learned on the Appalachian Trail that can apply to everyday life.
Impossible things are possible if you start slow.
So you want to do something big. You have a goal that’s towering over you. It’s massive and exciting and overwhelming. You stare at it and it stares back. You gulp. This is impossible, you tell yourself. Other people are probably telling you the same thing.
When I said I wanted to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail, I got some weird looks. I got some comments like you know you’re crazy, right? And yes, some people who brought up each of the challenges I would face and tried to convince me I wouldn’t be able to make it.
And when I stepped foot on trail and some of my hardest days, I’d pull open my map and look at all of the miles left, all of the elevation, the climbs, the descents, and think to myself, I can’t do this. This is too big.
But, it turns out, it actually was possible. And I could do it. I know this because, well, I did.
And the way I made it through all 2,200 miles? By taking it one day at a time, one mountain at a time, and sometimes, simply one step at a time.
How do you eat an elephant? one man asked another.
I dunno. How do you?
One bite at a time.
Hiking a long-distance trail, or any big goal that you take on, isn’t possible without chipping away at it bit by bit. It will not happen in one day. Take a deep breath, promise yourself that you’re going to keep showing up, and plan to be there for the long run. Tackle that big goal. It’s going to be worth it.
The hardest mile is usually the first mile.
People always want to know what the hardest day on trail was. I can give you some examples. I can talk about icy climbs, long days, blisters, overwhelming climbs, rain, and so much more.
But, if we want to talk about what consistently was the hardest part for me, it would be that first mile getting going each day. Every morning, somehow, seemed like a challenge. I would load everything in my pack and I’d feel the weight of it. We’d start moving, and my muscles were tight and sluggish. The first climb would come and I’d be winded almost immediately.
We have to do this all day? My body would cry. For the rest of the day? And the day after? And the day after?
The easiest moments to end my Appalachian Trail thru hike would have been there, that first mile of each day.
Let’s face it. It’s nice to think that the difficult moments chasing your goals only happen once and then you simply cruise from there. Once you tackle the “big boss,” everything is over.
But I’ve learned that progress and success are really just continuing to show up again and again and again.
Because guess what? After I pushed through that first mile, I’d discover things were actually pretty great. We’d find a viewpoint that would leave me speechless. We’d find trail magic or meet someone interesting. My hiking partner and I would strike up an interesting conversation. I’d get lost in my thoughts and wander along the trail to the soundtrack of my own mind. Whatever happened, it made it worth it.
When you find yourself in that rut, pushing through that first hard section in the morning, remind yourself, it’s going to be worth it. And keep going.
Treasure the little moments.
Another common question I get: What was your favorite section of the entire trail? I often tell them something like the Presidentials or Virginia’s Triple Crown. It’s easier to explain that than the true answer.
After all, how do I explain that my favorite sunset was a dispersed campsite on a random mountain in Georgia with some people I’d just met? We watched the sun disappear through the trees as we talked about our hopes and goals and what brought us to the trail, and when the sun rose again, we all rose with it, and said our goodbyes to each other, and I didn’t see most of them again.
One of my favorite shelter on my Appalachian Trail thru hike was one where the butterflies were swarming around, and as I dried out my shoes and socks, they kept landing on my feet. One of my most memorable trail magics was where they had hot coffee, which I remember because Weatherman came into the tent, and with reverence accepted the cup of coffee, whispering, all day I’ve been thinking about a good, hot cup of coffee, and here you are, giving me one.
I learned, distinctly, that the best days and the best moments are the small moments. Learn to seek them out. When you find them, treasure them.
Lean on the people around you.
American society is distinctly individualistic. We have hammered it into us that we must be able to handle things on our own, that our own success and failure depends entirely on us, and we have to carry the weight of our own world on our shoulders.
My thru hike took that thought-process and crushed it.
Whether it was friends who cheered me on from home, people I met on trail, or the random people who’d give me trail magic, rides to town, or even just some encouragement, it’s clear they made an enormous difference in my trip. If I had to do this trip with no help from anyone, I would not have made it.
It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to say, “I’m struggling today, guys.” And it’s okay to lean on the people around you and let them encourage you, build you up, and help you through. And when they have a hard day, you can do the same for them.
Actively seek out reasons to smile.
Let’s face it. Sometimes things feel like a bit of a sufferfest, including backpacking. You wake up after sleeping on the hard ground; you pack all your stuff up, carry it on your back through the climbs and descents, across rocks and rivers, over windfalls and obstacles. Just so you can eat a meal of ramen and tuna and go back to sleep on the hard ground. One the Appalachian Trail, sometimes it’s raining. Sometimes it’s snowing. Other times, it’s so hot you wonder if you’re just going to melt into the trail.
In all of that, you wonder why you even came out here.
I learned quickly that the things you look for are the things you will find. If you look for reasons why your hike is a miserable sufferfest, you will indeed find concrete examples. If you look for things to smile about and rejoice over, you’ll find them.
The key thing is to look. No, search. Don’t just passively let things happen, and decide afterwards how you’re going to feel about it. Spend your day actively looking for things to make you smile.
Blueberries. Sunrises. A friend’s joke. Butterflies. Flowers. An interestingly shaped rock. Moss. Lunch. Midafternoon snack. A break by a stream. A swimming salamander. The way the sun breaks through the clouds.
Our world is full of beauty. You only have to look.
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