It was my first white water rafting trip, down the Pigeon River in Tennessee. I was with my parents, visiting Gatlinburg during my high school junior year’s spring break. The guide was giving us his spiel and talking about the area. He mentioned this trail that was nearby, this a-pa-la-chin trail.
“Generally take the folks who do it about 4-6 months”
I tuned back in from my absorption in the surrounding mountains and trees, “You’re kidding”
“Nah, I’ve been meaning to get out there myself … one of these days” he took a stroke and looked off down the river.
“a-pa-la-chin trail” I said to myself, I knew I was going to want to look that one up later. I spent the entire car ride home researching the trail. Sure enough, it existed, and people did it. They walked from Georgia to Maine, through 14 states. They walked up and down enough times to have walked to the summit of Mt. Everest and back down again, 14 times. They carried everything on their backs, slept in tents, in shelters, ate food from these mini-stoves and had to filter their own water. They only showered in town, once, every 3-5 days. They hitch-hiked to get groceries and they spent their days walking in one direction. The idea encapsulated me. It seemed to be a beacon of light in a stormy night, it seemed it was everything I never knew I wanted. I started to do some math based on what they were saying it cost and when I could realistically do something like that. This is where I stumbled upon the concept of a gap year. So, as a junior in high school, at the time to start making all the important decisions about my future, I began my descent into questioning everything. Preparing for the path that was expected of me but plotting for an alternative way forward. The idea of living in the woods and walking everyday consumed me. It was something so radically different than anything that I had ever attempted. I had no gear and no experience, just an overwhelming desire for something other than what seemed to be offered.
I remember loosely beginning to throw the idea around out there, feel out the waters. Casually mentioning it to people that I was thinking about doing it. I bought a half a dozen books about various people’s journey’s on the trail and spent much of my free time searching for more information online. I read peoples blogs, how tos, the trail’s website. I created a google doc with things that the internet said I should bring, along with various links to different kinds of gear and useful articles. I read a blog of someone who, like me, had never gone backpacking before and who did it alone, as a young female. That was one of the bigger stepping stones to really committing to walking it. I said heck, well if she can do it, then so can I. I read that the mental component was the most difficult, that my body would adapt and that the trail would train me. I had no idea how my mind would react, which was part of the appeal in doing something like this, to find out.
I debated whether I should take a gap year to pursue this crazy feat or if I should just continue on to university. The argument went both ways. The trail would be there after college, but college would also be there after the trail. What did I want to do first? The first step was seeing if I could even defer my admission, since college after the trail wouldn’t be financially feasible without my hard-earned merit scholarships. After a bit of digging I realized that it was fairly common elsewhere to defer admission for a year and that many colleges offer that, if you reach out to the admissions committee. So a way existed, yet I was still very much so on the fence. I made countless bargains with myself. I said if I got the backpack I wanted for christmas, well then I would go. I said that if I found a school that would let me defer my scholarships, then I would go. On Christmas morning, I opened what I would carry all of my belongings in for 4-6 months. My heart dropped as this dream became more and more of a reality. After a series of emails with someone from admissions, it was confirmed that I could defer my admission for a year and maintain my scholarships. Yet, the internal struggle still persisted.
My heart told me I needed to go but I couldn’t get the incessant noise of what I should do out of my head. The whole idea of taking a gap year appealed to me. I had been in school my whole life up to that point and I had never had much time to actually live in the world, to learn from it, and to think for myself. I wanted a break from learning in a classroom, I wanted to see what else I could learn from outside of it’s confines. I wanted to see what life had to offer, what I was capable of doing and I wanted to try something new. It made sense to go as soon as I could, upon graduating I would be the most free I will likely ever be. No debt, no bills, no dependents, just an itch to experience the world first-hand. Yet, I was afraid. I was afraid of the unknown, of straying from the norm, of failing; and at the same time, I was petrified of pushing off this dream to an unknown future date. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I didn’t want to end up in a job I disliked, full of regrets.
I joined an Appalachian Trail women’s group in order to seek more information. I asked them for advice on what to do:
“Alright ladies so I have been thinking a lot about something and wanted to get your opinion on it. I am a senior in high school right now and will be graduating in May. For the past two years I have been dreaming/ planning to thru hike the Appalachian trail. I have applied and been accepted into many colleges but I don’t really want to go right away, if at all. So I was thinking of deferring my admission to school and hiking the trail, I would leave in March of 2017, as of now I would be going solo( I just got the ULA Catalyst backpack for Christmas, and I’m very excited). I guess I am just trying to figure out what path I should take. I’m afraid that if I go to college right away I will never make the time to actually thru hike the trail. Let me know what you think!” (copy and posted from the page)
To which I received a tremendous amount of support (not surprising from a hiking group). People telling me to go hike, while I am young, while I am less bound to the world. Parents, professors, college graduates, telling me from their own experience how much harder it is later on. People told me how hard it was for them to pursue anything other than a career after college, how hard it was to make time for personal goals with kids, responsibilities or careers, things I had none of. There were over 100 comments, not all pro hiking first, but all welcomed perspectives. One comment in particular got to me, it was something along the lines of “seems like you already have your mind made-up” (re-reading my post now it does seem quite obvious). I had a window to still pursue college, I had a backpack, I had enough money to financially support myself, I had the desire to do so, so what was holding me back? I did have my mind made up. I just needed some words of encouragement, I needed someone to tell me that I could do it, that I was making the right decision. Ideally, I would have been able to come to that conclusion myself, but as a 17 year old, unsure of my place in the world and unsure of the world itself, I needed reassurance. No one in my life outside of my parents (who found out about it at the same moment I did) even knew what this a-pa-la-chin trail was. When I told people they usually ended up projecting their fears and misinformation onto me. Telling me I was wasting my time, putting myself in danger or just down right crazy. My parents did not want me to go alone, so they were very reluctant in supporting me. Eventually, they saw that the train was rolling with or without them and they hopped on, even visiting me on my hike.
I worked my butt off at my catering job all summer after high school graduation until I turned 18 in November. I then traded that in for 3 other jobs, as a waitress, in a ski shop, and in a fancy Italian restaurant as a food expo. In the mean time, I finished my acquisition of gear that I would need to live and walk in the woods for 6 months and trained to the best of my ability. I bought a one-way plane ticket to Georgia and in March, I began walking north. On July 27th, there was no more trail to walk, so I began my journey from Maine back to Michigan.
I started university mid-august and it was a tough transition. I had just been living in the woods, surrounded by an eclectic group of people from all types of backgrounds and parts of the world. I had faced suffering and experienced the world in its purest forms. Then, I was living in a shoebox with 3 other freshmen. It was hard to connect with a lot of my peers because our interests and mindsets were vastly different, we were just not in the same place developmentally. I had the privilege of seeing things in a different light by taking a gap year and for many, college is where they begin to do that. I eventually found my people at our local rock climbing wall and for the first time in my life, (outside of backpacking the AT) I had friends with similar interests, similar values, perspectives, and similar care free attitudes. They have made a lasting impact on my life and I found them because I had taken the time to explore what I was actually interested in. I had time to figure out what my passions were and that led me to people with similar passions and personalities.
There was a lot of self doubt in every aspect of what I did. When people asked me why I wanted to do this, I came back with all sorts of reasons about wanting to see life, experience something new, try something hard, to see what I am made of. While those are all accurate, the truth of the matter is I needed to hike that trail, it was a calling, it was the next step in my development. It was what my heart was screaming for, and I nearly didn’t listen. I could have let my fears of going against the grain, or my fears of doing something radically different, completely alone, or my fear of failing stop me from achieving a dream. Taking a gap year and hiking the Appalachian Trail has turned my entire life upside down and completely ruined me. In all of the best ways. My life, my perspective, my being is permanently altered by what I saw, what I experienced and by the people I met. For the first time in my life I witnessed and understood various principles of life. The climbs always end and the sun always returns. When you want something, the entire universe conspires to help you realize your dreams. I learned how to listen to my heart, and ignore that voice in my head that fretted over the what if’s and what others might think.
Thanks for reading , happy trails!
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