A complete hike? In this economy?

I don’t know if it’s self-sabotage, cognitive dissonance, or just plain idiocy that has led me to save all the money I would need to pay off my school loans and then, instead of doing the obvious, embark on a journey that has no relation to my career and will surely decimate my now miraculously full bank account. Yet here I am, TODAY having reached my savings goal for the Appalachian Trail, actually passing the first hurdle of my Thru Hike challenge. I now have the resources to do this. One of the main reasons people leave the path (finances) should now, in theory, not be a problem for me. That’s a discarded excuse. Holy shit.

And I don’t want to harp on the money, but you’re living the same times as me, right? It’s hard not to worry. But here I am, standing on the backs of giants (my parents allowing me to live in my childhood bedroom, selling my semi-functional car for $1000, and the discovery of really nice canned food that allowed me to stock up on lunch and dinner for less than $3), finally able to turn my back on the rat race for 6 months and think about something different. Oh my heavens. The opportunity to think of something new! What will it be? I don’t know. I hope it’s something fun. Or at least not related to taxes. Please.

When I was trying to think of what to write about my feelings about starting the journey, I found myself grandly pontificating in a way that made me feel like a fraud. The great call of the wild may have been what made me choose to hit the trail, but since making that decision, the singular focus of my life has been to put myself in a place to actually achieve it, ie. Working hard to finance my bohemian lifestyle. I cannot think eloquent thoughts about the meaning of a pilgrimage in the modern era or reflect on what I will heal by fulfilling a promise to my inner child. I have to go to work, Freeloader, what about you?

I mean, I’ve already had 5 hours since Merciful Paycheck arrived for new anxieties to take root. Lihat juga .. Like the fact that I haven’t taken any time to prepare for my hike in the real, tactile, muscle-memory sense. At all.

Confession: I have never backpacked.

Ha.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I have walked. Damn, I’ve walked! In March 2024 I completed the Camino Francés. And to be clear, I am IN NO WAY saying that the Camino doesn’t count. He does it. He kicked my butt. It soaked me to the bone. It did something mysterious to my knee that made the whole walk less of a “walk” and more of a “limp.” But I also had the option of eating a croissant every day, and having a coffee or three every time I walked through a town, and pooping inside, and then sleeping in a bed every night.

Fundamentally, I didn’t have to carry my house, my kitchen, or my bathroom on my back. Come to think of it, now that I’ve embarked on the task of packing for the AT, I don’t know what the heck I was carrying on the trail to justify my 35-liter backpack being filled to the brim. At the time I was hiking with a girl who had done the AT and her base weight on the Camino was 6 pounds, with a laptop. When he told me that, it was shocking. Now I can only imagine how absurd my 15 pound package of nothing important must have seemed to him.

But yeah, other than that hike, I’ve done almost no preparation. And even that was 2 years ago. So am I screwed? I refuse to believe it. And if you’ll allow me to redirect your attention to The Rat Race, I’d love to tell you why.

All I keep hearing as I read, listen, and watch every possible media about the Appalachian Trail is that as much as the trail is physically challenging, it is even more of a mental challenge. And I don’t want to brag, but if there’s one thing I’ve proven to myself in this pre-trail prep work, it’s that I’m a stubborn son of a bitch. In order to make ends meet on time, I had to work a series of jobs, always at least two at a time, but at one point up to four, seven days a week for months. And honestly, it could have been worse. They were jobs that I loved where I worked with wonderful people. But that doesn’t change the fact that when my manager offered me the early cut, no matter how good it sounded, I stuck it out. It sounds very small but I really feel like I have gone through the first circle of my search. Even when off the trail, I chose the trail every day. I have taken the year to practice the art of devotion. Could you look at that? Besides being stubborn, I’m corny.

So why? Why do I choose this path? Why make my life a fiscal, frugal hell for a year only to escape it for half that time? Here are my big reasons:

My why:

• Life is too short not to do great things.
• Because I want to feel time differently
• I am too fascinating to myself not to probe every little part of my being.
• Because I said I would.

I plan to go into more detail on this later, and will do a full breakdown of what my pretty pennies bought me as a little gift. For now, however, I’m celebrating a successful phase one.

Happy trails, don’t be a stranger,

Rylee G.

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!

For more information, visit the About page of this site.