Day 1: The approach trail humbled me

Wow.

Somehow I feel like the most prepared and least prepared person in the world at the same time.

I started the morning with the Quality Inn’s complimentary breakfast that included the hotel’s eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy. Honestly? He slapped.

After breakfast, I managed to Uber to the Amicalola Falls State Park Visitor Center. The moment I saw the arch, everything suddenly seemed real to me. I was so overwhelmed and excited that I completely forgot to sign the hiker log book like an idiot.

So, for the record:
My official start date was May 3rd.

I called my friends and family, told them I was officially starting the Appalachian Trail, and finally started hiking around 10:30 am.

Now, technically, the approach trail wasn’t originally part of my plan.

But I thought:
«Well… I’m here. Why not?»

I would very quickly learn exactly why not.

Going from barely walking the last two years to immediately climbing hundreds of stairs with a 25-pound backpack was one of the most physically offensive experiences of my life.

The views of the waterfall were incredible though, so at least there was that.

It seemed like the waterfall went up for miles.

Unfortunately, the path didn’t suddenly become easier after the stairs ended. It just continued to rise in slightly different ways.

At one point I stopped for chips and made my first electrolyte drink of the trip: some sort of berry flavor that tasted vaguely like melted water popsicle.

6/10.

At this point my:

• hips hurt,
• quadriceps hurt,
• calves hurt,
• ankles hurt,
• feet hurt,
• and honestly I think my soul also hurts a little.

Still, somehow, I kept moving.

About four miles into Approach Trail, I stopped for lunch and made what was honestly a surprisingly elite meal:

• tuna,
• packets of mayonnaise stolen from hotel breakfast,
• and crushed buffalo chips.

Mountain cooking is truly an art.

I also ran into a group of hikers who wished me luck, and only later realized I had completely forgotten to tell them I was blogging. The walk. Missed opportunity to network. Rookie mistake.

However, after lunch something changed.

I got a random burst of energy and finally started to feel excited instead of just physically assaulted by the height gain. It also helped that the trail finally started trending downhill.

That momentum lasted…until the last mile up Springer Mountain.

That last mile took approximately six business days.

And then, suddenly, there it was.

Springer Mountain.

At the top of Springer, the official start of the AT

I don’t know why, but I thought the south end would be more dramatic, like I had to climb a giant final ascent to reach it. Instead, I basically ran into it after being so high up.

Honestly, seeing that plaque and my first white flare seemed surreal to me.

I’ve imagined that moment for years and somehow it was finally happening to me. me.

Signage in the south terminal

I set up camp right after the terminal near the shelter area, which honestly felt luxurious by trail standards:

• bear box,
• water fountain,
• private,
• flat places for tents.

Five stars.

I’m definitely getting more confident setting up my tent, although I still wouldn’t consider myself exactly efficient.

For dinner, I made ramen mixed with instant mashed potatoes and crispy red lentil bites, which looked horrible but actually tasted amazing.

Unfortunately, my appetite already seems strangely nonexistent even though my stomach had been growling an hour earlier.

Trail bodies are strange.

The best part of the night was walking back to Springer to watch the sunset.

My phone camera couldn’t capture at all how beautiful it was, but believe me when I say it looked unreal.

A beautiful first sunset here

I ended the night talking to another hiker and his father before walking into my tent completely exhausted.

Overall, it was honestly a great day.

Although maybe I only think that because it’s over.

tomorrow is probably going to hurt significantly further. But for now I can officially say:

I’m on the Appalachian Trail.

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.