WHAT DOES IT TAKE?

 

 If you were to ask anyone who has done any backpacking (and I refer to the hikes I speak of as this simply because it requires more than a day hike might) just what it takes to actually complete the miles, I have no doubt the responses you'd get would be as varied as we hikers are.  Some would talk about the need for extensive physical training, while others might focus more on the gear required.  Being a backpacker, I can't argue with either approach - but for me, I've found it takes a few other things to be successful, no matter what your end-goal is.

I'd be amiss if I didn't begin this by addressing the issue of the physical aspects of doing a long-distance hike (aka backpacking trip).  Please know that I'm in NO way saying that you shouldn't consider your physical or health issues when planning such a trip.  You have to.  That being said, don't let being out of shape stop you from undertaking this goal!  I've gone into a section hike having visited both ends of the spectrum - from working with a personal trainer for months before setting out to just setting out, being relatively unprepared physically.  I will be the first to say that doing exercise in some form will only serve to help you as you walk those miles (carrying that 35lbs or so on your back, up hill both ways, mind you).  Still - I have to be honest and say that I've started most of my hikes having done very little exercise to prepare for them...and I ended up here...😀

And yet, I finished!  So, check with your doctor if you have health issues that might interfere with, or be aggravated by, the type of physical exertion required, prepare if you are able to (or want to), and then just go for it.  It's amazing what sheer willpower can get you through.

The next thing I think you must be willing to give up is always making a fashion statement.  Or, maybe I should say that you must be willing to embrace the fact that your clothes might not match, they'll be soaking wet (from rain or sweat - probably both), you'll get dirty, and you'll most likely end up not caring about it one bit.  Beautification efforts usually go by the wayside rather quickly.  I'm not talking about basic personal hygiene (although that take some advance planning and effort, to be sure).  I'm talking about being concerned about how you look.  Functionality often trumps style.  So, if you're willing to just go with the flow, then go for it!  Just know in advance that you're probably going to end up looking a bit rough around the edges a day into the hike...

Then there's the issue of gear.  What do I need?  What can I do without?  What if...

And the list goes on and on.  Simply put, backpacking gear can be outrageously expensive.  Like computers, it seems as soon as one tent or pack is hailed as being the one to get, another one comes out that claims to be even better.  I've been there - it's tempting - at least till I checked my bank account.  That limited my options!  If I had to pick the gear that I think is worth spending the extra bucks on, it would be: the pack itself, a good tent, and the sleeping gear (mat, bag, ect).  Ultralight gear brings in ultra-bucks.  If you shop around, however, you'll find some that are reasonably priced and of good quality.  

Really do some research on a pack, because it can be the deciding factor on whether you finish your hike or quit before doing so.  Take time to get measured.  That one thing can make ALL the difference in the world.  In the excitement of preparing for my first AT section hike, I thought I'd measured correctly, only to find out on the trail that I had not...

The pack was too long in the torso for me.  The first time I carried it was for a one-night, eleven-mile (should have been 10, but we missed the trailhead from the get-go, so...) and all seemed fine.  The next time was on a 3-day section hike on the AT.  I made it, but the pack rubbed on my hip bones and left me in a lot of pain.  Once that hike was done, we headed straight for Mountain Crossings at Neel Gap and had me fitted by a professional.  I ended up with a ULA pack, which weighed in at about 3 lbs.  It was a single-compartment pack, so it took me some time to figure out how to load it - but the difference it made was amazing.  

I'll add that I went with a pack that had shoulder straps fitted for women - our shoulders are shaped differently and doing so allowed me to carry the weight as I needed to.

Our other gear consists of a Big Agnes 2-person tent - it's actually pretty tight for two, so you'd better like the person next to you cause there's no "personal space" once you're both inside.  We've been told that it kind of looks like our tent is giving birth when we climb out each morning.  Hey - it works for us!  Sleeping bags are important, but not as much as the mat you chose.  I started with a foam mat, moved to a Big Agnes mat (which was great but sounded like a pool raft when you moved), and have now graduated to a Neo Lite mat.  It cost more but it works for me.  It's a bit wider, so I don't find that my arms fall off in the middle of the night - and once I get the air right in it, it's comfortable.  Trust me when I say this: that ground is hard!  If you can afford to do so, spending a little more on your sleeping mat can make a world of difference.  After a lot of experimenting, this is some of what I've ended up with, but with each trip I make, I'm learning to leave things behind (like that coffee cup).

What else do I feel it takes to be successful in your backpacking endeavors?  This might sound a bit like I'm trying to be Captain Obvious here - but you have to be willing to give up the creature comforts of home that we usually take for granted: things like your bed, the four walls you have around you, electricity, and the luxury that's probably most taken for granted - your toilet.  

 We tend to plan our stay on the AT around the shelter areas if possible, even though we still use our tent.  I feel the need to include a disclaimer here.  This picture shows it set up inside the shelter - this is something we rarely do because you never know who might come in later in the evening a need to use it.  We ended up being the only hikers staying on Tray Mountain that night, so we moved everything inside when we heard a storm approaching.  

Sometimes this will be your home for the night.  If you're lucky (I suppose), there will be what's called a privy onsite at the shelter areas.  These consist of a structure built around a compost toilet.  And I'll say right now that they are typically gross.  Still, it affords you some privacy and an actual toilet seat - with the alternative being digging a hole in the woods, so...

Sometimes all you'll come across is the bare minimum.  This picture below is the Myakka campsite where we stayed on our very first training hike here in Florida.  As you can see, there's nothing really provided so gear is important here...

I've discussed what I believe are some of the most important "must-haves" if you're going to successfully complete your backpacking trip.  Each is important in its own way, no doubt.  But I think what's most important to have is the belief in yourself and your abilities.  It takes a certain amount of courage to head into an undertaking such as this one.  There are SO many unknowns - but that's what makes it so rewarding.  Reaching your end point of a hike gives you a feeling I can't quite describe.  I have yet to go on one in my 230 miles to date where everything has gone as planned.  Oh - other than the rain - you can always count on that.  So, I might limp out.  I might shed a few tears.  I might have the urge to steal a little kid's Cheetos while waiting for my ride at Clingman's Dome (it's a REALLY long story, but in the end, I didn't steal his Cheetos).  When all is said and done, though, what I walk away with is a sense of accomplishment and a smile on my face...

Myakka

Burningtown Gap to Southern Boundary of the Smokies

Fontana Dam to Clingman's Dome

Crossing the GA/NC state line

Neel Gap to Dicks' Creek

Happy Hiking Everyone!

Just a Short Overnight Hike - the AT Approach Trail

 

 

It's taken me about three weeks to even think about starting to write this post.  At first, it seemed kind of silly since it was just 8.5 miles.  I could have easily summed it up as follows:  It was hard.  The end.  In the days since my brother and I returned from our whirlwind hiking trip, so many things have been revealed to me about the importance of that short hike.  So, here I am - to share it with you.

I actually hiked the Approach Trail with my sister way back in 2012 (I think).  It was our first section hike ever on the AT, and we were beyond excited.  I still laugh when I think about the first thing my sister said after we'd put on our packs and started walking across the parking lot.  She stopped, turned to look at me, and said, "I don't think I can do this."  I simply told her that we would give it a try and if we really thought we couldn't do it, then we'd just turn around and go back to the car.  Well, we did it - and since that day, we have completed 223 miles of the AT, with our last hike ending at Clingmans Dome in NC.

There's irony in that, because my brother said pretty much those same words to me as we stood beneath that iconic arch - not because he had doubts about whether or not he could do it, but because he knew that I had doubts that I could.  I'd been through some pretty tough times both physically and mentally over the course of the past couple of years, and I just wasn't sure that my stiff, tired, hurting body would be able to do what I would need it to do to walk 8.5 miles in the mountains, carrying a pack on my back.  He'd told me prior to leaving for the hike that he knew I could do it, but that the problem was that it sounded like I thought I couldn't.  He was right.  I had some serious doubts - but we decided to give it a try while we had the chance.  It's been five years since we stood atop that dome on Clingmans, after completing a grueling 4 days in the Smoky Mountains.  It was during that hike that my trail name, Headlight, was given to me - but in that moment before we taking our first steps of this little hike, it felt almost inappropriate - like maybe my "light" had gone out somewhere along the way.

There was a small group at the arch, being led by a guide of some kind, and they were kind enough to take our picture before we left.  I'd packed my little waterproof digital camera, but never took it out.  I didn't get very many pictures this time - I'm usually the one who pulls up the rear of the group so I can stop and take numerous pictures of things that will only mean something to me as I stand there in that moment.  Nope - that camera never came out of the pack.  

We had opted to take the trail leading to the lodge versus climbing 400-plus stairs with a pack on.  Turns out, that might have been easier.  The road was severely washed out in many places, making it not only treacherous but difficult to navigate.  We made it to the top, though, and had a snack in the parking lot before continuing.  One thing about us that remains a joke to this day is that whenever anyone passes us, we are typically eating.  I'm not sure where we were in this one, but we'd stopped to take a break and make a hot lunch.  We were joined by a nice man and his two young boys and one of them was gracious enough to take a quick picture of us.

Looking back, I wish I'd taken more pictures, but I was too preoccupied with simply putting one foot in front of the other.  You might laugh at this, but trust me - with my leg muscles being totally exhausted (both from the climb and from not being in the shape I needed to be in), I was asking the Lord to help me to keep moving forward because my own strength was failing me.  

We made the decision to stop and fill our water bladders at a source pretty close to the Black Gap shelter area.  It was a steep, slippery descent (of course), but once we got down there, my brother filled two water bottles for me that I immediately consumed while he was filtering water into our bladders.  We weren't sure how the water was flowing up on Springer, so we wanted to make sure we had enough to cook dinner with - oh, and to have that mandatory cup of Folgers freeze-dried crystals upon our arrival.  It's just what we do...

Just as he was finishing up the refill, the first rain drops began to bounce off the trees.  We were under the canopy, so we had enough time to pack our bladders back in our packs and to get those waterproof pack covers on before the downpour hit.  And hit it did.  Within a couple minutes (if even), we were soaked to the bone.  It was a cold rain.  Of course it was.  While we've never completed a section hike without being rained on, this deluge did nothing for our already low morale.  But we had just under 2 miles to go - we pressed on.

It took us 9 hours to go 8.5 miles.  That's not bad considering that I wouldn't even call my forward movement a turtle's pace.  I didn't think it was possible to go much slower than a turtle, but I managed to do so.  In our defense, our lunch stop was about 45 minutes, and our water stop took about 20 - so we kept true to what I typically allow when planning one of our section hikes: 1 hour for each mile hiked.  Sometimes the terrain allows us to pick up speed and make up for the slower pace (in this case, it was more like take a few steps, then stop and catch my breath while giving my burning leg/backside muscles time to stop complaining about what I was forcing them to do).  The rain stopped about 20 minutes before we reached the summit of Springer, but by that time, all we wanted to do was take the packs off and NOT climb up anymore.  

There were several people at the shelter area - folks of all ages are out in large numbers now.  We set up our tent on one of the spaces located behind the shelter.  For those of you who aren't familiar with what a typical shelter looks like, this is it:

I will add that they've redone the inside of the shelter to make it two floors now, and it's actually pretty nice.  Another change I noticed was the installation of bear-proof food storage boxes rather than the bear cables.  Apparently, the bears figured out how to work those.  While the shelter has its perks, we still prefer our tent...

Our typical shelter routine ensued, and it didn't take us too long to get the tent set up, change out of the wet clothes and shoes, and to get that steamy cup of colored water that we call coffee fixed and in our water-logged hands.  We stood in silence for a couple of minutes, and then I had an epiphany: "We could always call Ron Brown and see if he has space available to pick us up at the Springer Mountain parking lot rather than go back the way we'd hiked up."  (Ron Brown, by the way, is a shuttle driver who lives and breathes helping out hikers in any way he possibly can.  He's an outstanding person, so if you're ever in that area and in need of a ride, give him a call!)It took us about 5 seconds to agree on that, and within a few minutes, we had a ride arranged the next day.  Granted, we would have to hang around the shelter area for a while, but that worked.  We were pretty tired.

My brother hung some paracord for us to hang all of our wet stuff on, and that probably would have worked well except for the fact the the rain moved in again around 6am (or a little before dawn).  The stuff was already wet, so we made no move to climb out of the tent to try to save it.  We'd covered our packs but the wind blew off the wraps - needless to say, our packs were soaked on the outside.  I've used the tent we carried before and never had a problem with leaks - but water managed to come up through the floor, probably because we had to set up on a bit of a slant, so the rain ran between the ground cloth under the tent and the tent floor.  We stayed dry, which was the important thing, even if the bottom of our sleeping mats didn't.  

There was no drying out the gear, so we slowly packed it all up as we drank our morning coffee and choked down the oatmeal we'd taken for breakfast.  We were spent from the day before, so we moved slowly, but we did stop long enough to get one last picture before taking down the soggy tent:

We left the shelter area around noon - it was almost a mile down to the parking lot.  To say that every muscle in my body was groaning would be an understatement, but we had done what we came to do.  My brother can now cross this 8.5 mile section off his list, and I can cross it off twice.

I said earlier that looking back on this short hike, I can see that many things were revealed to me.  I've always felt "at home" in the mountains - and no matter how challenging the terrain might be, I've always accepted the challenge head on.  This time was no different.  What's different is that I can see it from a very different perspective than I ever could before. 

Some of you reading this may scoff at what I'm about to say, but when I look back at this hike through the eyes of my faith, I can see how the Lord used it as an example of His presence in my life.  He promises to be with us as we stand on the mountaintops as well as when we're walking through the valleys of life.  How does this translate into this hike for me?  Well - I was truly at the end of my physical strength, with the cold rain blowing in my face.  The path I was trying to follow under water and invisible, I was running on empty in terms of being hungry and having no energy.  I was tired.  I was cold.  I thought many times about quitting because in my own strength, I didn't see how I was going to make it through what I was walking through.  How many times, especially in the last couple of years, have I looked at the world around me and felt all those things?

And yet, I did make it.  I have no doubt that the Lord was with me - and that one of His purposes of allowing that hike to come to fruition was to show me that, with Him by my side, I can do so much more than I give myself credit for.  I pleaded with Him to help me pick up on foot and put it in front of the other.  I prayed that He would keep us safe.  He answered every single one of those prayers and blessed me in ways that I could only see days after returning home.  

Will I go out again?  Lord willing, yes, I will.  Will I have doubts in my abilities?  Probably.  My physical issues didn't just disappear because I went hiking.  Will I believe that, if He allows me to get back out on the trail that He will bring me through it?  Absolutely.  Will I see Him all around me as I walk those mountain trails?  How could I not?

Happy hiking, everyone!  Stay safe out there and be blessed!