(From the perspective of a solo female hiker)
When I began my thru hike of the Appalachian Trail, I was 18, fresh out of high school, and with zero backpacking experience. Whenever I told people of my plans to hike the trail after graduating, the responses and questions were typically the same. The first question I would always get would be a variation of the same thing in order to find out if I was going alone. To which I would respond that I was in fact going alone. The next question that almost always followed was something about carrying a gun. To which, of course, I would respond that I wasn’t, as any hiker knows, that would be an absurd amount of unnecessary weight. People’s concerns generally came from the goodness of their hearts, but also from a place of ignorance. With no knowledge of the trail, or what the community is like out there, they would project their fears onto me of every horror movie they have seen.
The best way to counter ignorance is with education. I would always counter the fears of me walking a trail in the woods for 5 months with the fact that I am statistically much more likely to get assaulted on a college campus. That one always got them to re-evaluate their question and or the assumption that the woods are somehow more dangerous than society. Generally speaking, the Appalachian Trail is a very safe place. I felt more threatened by natural forces and the terrain than I ever felt by other people. In fact, I can’t think of one person who I met on trail that made me feel unsafe or threatened. In towns, however, where civilization meets the untamed, is where you might stumble across more questionable characters. The Appalachian Trail is more than a trail, it is a community. A community of people that are looking out for one another. I know for a fact if there was anyone who made me or any of my fellow hikers feel uncomfortable, that I would have an army of people ready to protect me.
My friend’s parents insisted on letting me borrow a necklace knife that they had. This necklace knife I wore pretty much every day, and slept next to it at night. It wasn’t much, and I never felt the need to use it, but it gave me comfort when I was sleeping alone or when I was hitch hiking by myself. It was something that was always on me, light, accessible, and great for cutting cheese. This would be something I would recommend to anyone who is in a similar position as I was, and wants to give some peace of mind to themselves and to their family. Less weight, more fashionable and much more feasible than a gun. I also carried the mentality that I would fight to the death to protect myself, if it is me or you, you bet your trail runners it’s not going to be me. Luckily, I never had to prove myself in that, but believing is half the battle.
The biggest defense that you have against anything in this world is your intuition. You are not under any obligation to be someone’s friend or be kind to them if something does not feel right or you do not feel comfortable. If this is in town, simply ignore it, but if someone becomes a problem on trail, put some distance between you and them. Hike on, stay back, or link up with a buddy until they are gone or you’ve realize that you’ve mis-assesed the threat. If you have some trusted hiker buddies/tramily around, let them know your thoughts, maybe they can help. Again, I never had any problems personally but I have heard stories, it happens. I think most hikers are great but in any subset of a population there are always outliers. Take added precautions if you’d like, hitch with a buddy and camp in groups. There will be plenty of people out there, especially if you’re going North from Springer sometime in March/April.
As to other potential risks such as weather, terrain, animals or getting lost. Do proper research ahead of time, make sure you have the proper gear and guidebook type resource and you will be fine. I started off carrying bear spray because my dad had bought it for me but I ended up leaving it in a hiker box in Tennessee (sorry dad). The only kind of bears you could encounter are black bears and you just need to make yourself loud and big since they frighten quite quickly. I didn’t mind the idea of doing the AT as my first ever backpacking trip once I had read someone else call it “idiot proof”. There are 2×6 white blazes on the trees the entire way, it is very easy to stay on trail. Although there are certainly occasions where you can get side tracked if you are not paying attention. If you are ever unsure all you have to do is walk back until you see another white blaze.
The trail is only an extension of life and unfortunately we have not eradicated the ugly and the evil. I suppose they must work together to provide a balance. Yet the good somehow finds a way to outweigh the bad and in the end it is not a viable threat nor something that should seriously give you any concern. The biggest threat on the AT is probably your ego, or the rain, or maybe the terrain, or the bugs, or the river crossings, or the roots, or maybe the rocks, or negative mindsets, or a desire for things to be any different than they are, or a needed water source .5 off trail with a steep grading at the end of a long day, or a bear bag hung poorly, or worse, one in your tent, or human error, or, well, you get the point. There are risks that you can avoid and there are risks that are just part of the game. The trick is knowing the difference between the two and behaving in a manner to mitigate those risks that you can control. You can’t control external events but you can control how you respond to them.
Is hiking the Appalachian Trail safe? No. The only safe place is yesterday and your bed. But also, yes, it is incredibly safe in comparison to a college campus, any city, or society as a whole. Don’t let your fears stop you from uncovering the bliss and freedom that accompany walking many months in the woods with your life on your backpack and under your feet. Especially do not let the fears of others stop you.
Thanks for reading, until next time!
peace and love
Lioness
