Finding your people on the road: why you didn’t want a Tramily

When I finally committed to my walk, I knew that telling the people in my life would make it really real. I didn’t know anything about hiking, camping, backpacking… so I was pretty nervous and a little embarrassed. I was worried that people would ask questions that I simply didn’t have answers to. I was afraid of appearing naive and unprepared. To be fair, looking back, I was absolutely naive and unprepared, but I don’t think I would have it any other way if I could!

One of the first things most people said was, “Are you going alone!?” or “Who will go with you!?” It made me feel like I was crazy to go out alone. But I explained that, based on my research, the trail is a fairly populated place and I would probably meet people along the way. I started to worry. And believe me, I’m a worried professional who unfortunately doesn’t get paid for it. I was worried I wouldn’t see anyone at all. If I saw people, I was worried they would hate me. I even spiraled so hard that I was worried that too many people liked me or that they liked me too much! The social part of the trail became overwhelming and I hadn’t set foot on it yet.

Here I leave you my experience on the trail, as advice and to relieve the anxiety of some future hikers.

put yourself out there

The first few days on the road my social anxiety was in full swing. I was worried that everyone I saw would immediately know that I had no idea what I was doing, so I spent days embarrassed. I forced myself to get over that and talk to people anyway, even if it was just me admitting that I had no idea what I was doing. The more people I talked to, the more kindness I found. It made me feel a little more comfortable talking to other hikers, but I felt like I was in a new group of hikers every night.

I found it easier to go into my tent and reflect on the day alone each night. I realized that if I did, no one would knock on my store door and ask to be friends. I forced myself to go where the people were. In one shelter area, I forced myself to go make dinner around the campfire (even though there was a ban on lighting fires, so there was no fire in the campfire). The first time I did this, I sat alone for so long I almost walked out. I felt like I was the weird kid in the lunchroom. Just when I was about to give up, people approached and those people became my first tram appearance.

In my first hostel, I slept in a small bunk building separate from the house. I, once again, cajoled myself into journaling at the dining room table and waiting for other hikers to join me. And they did it!

So if you want to find your people during your walk, you need to position yourself where the people are. Even if it’s uncomfortable.

Don’t promise too much

I felt very lucky to be surrounded by fellow hikers who I enjoyed. I spent my time hiking laughing at silly things or sharing deep childhood stories with people I felt like I’d known for more than a few days. I was excited to share a night with these friends at a shelter and volunteered to help everyone.

Unfortunately, on the way to the hostel we all traveled different kilometers and lost contact with each other. When I arrived at the hostel it turned out that not everyone could confirm their stay and the beds were sold out. I felt terrible and guilty. Maybe it was just my social anxiety and my professional-level anxiety, but I felt like I’d ruined a friendship.

That’s when I decided the old saying «do your own hike» applied here. From that moment on I took responsibility solely for my own reserves!

Align visions and Schedules

When I arrived in Hiawassee, GA, it felt like I had a tram. We had a great time together and walked quite long miles every day, in a neat little line, trying to keep up throughout the day. This seemed comfortable for a while and we all talked about getting to Maine together. The more planning we did, the more cracks formed. Some days it was nice to sit back and let someone else decide how far to go, how many days to resupply for, where to sleep, and what hostel or city would be next.

But sometimes I wanted to do my own thing. I wanted to stay in town an extra hour for a second meal in town, or stay in a hostel that leaned a little more toward the «hiker trash» life. I also wanted to finish the trail in October, while others wanted to move forward as quickly as they could. On the days of the tour, I was losing my mind. I still love the people I rode those first 500 miles with, but I wanted to spend some time alone. I was afraid to separate myself from people so far away; It felt like everyone was in a small group and I was doomed to be alone.

I came out of the trail days totally alone and made a small effort to make some space for a few days. When I posted a blog about being alone, someone commented something about how it’s best to be everyone around you and I took it to heart. I spent the entire day hiking alone with only quick greetings and short breaks with other hikers. Then each night I would meet almost everyone at each shelter and campsite, catching up on the miles since we last met.

Be independent enough to do what you want. If you want to get to the city before the ferry arrives, do it. If you want to hike for a couple of days to enjoy the best camping spots, do it. If you want to indulge in a vortex at Angel’s Rest just so you can have a couple drinks and get a vortex patch, say «see you on the road» to those who don’t!

In my lonely era

I traveled completely on my own schedule and walked alone for many miles. I found it easier to take a few days off and visit a friend when I arrived in Pennsylvania; I didn’t have anyone I was afraid of losing. I had heard stories from repeat hikers about not encountering a tram until Virginia and I passed that.

While part of me was sad about not having a reliable group, I continued to meet more and more hikers and spend time with those I only met every two weeks. If my blisters were killing me, I could cut the last 6 miles out of my day without anyone else complaining about how long I was left the next day. If I realized I hated all the food from my last resupply and was going to walk 4 miles off trail to stop at a country store, I might do it. When I woke up feeling like I was starving and then realized it was Lymes disease, I was able to spend an entire day in a hotel bed (although it would have been nice to share that cost with someone…). I really got to do my own hike. I wouldn’t trade my 1000+ miles of independence for anything.

Try a stretch of solitude. It’s rare for that to happen in the paved realm without falling into a darker place. I saw 25 bears on the trail and 23 when I was completely alone. I walked extra miles just to enjoy the sunsets and slept in like I wanted to every morning! Do it, do your thing, do your own hike!

It’s a bubble, not a tragedy

It was in Pennsylvania where I met people I didn’t know I would meet. A large group of hikers were invited to a beautiful trail at Casa de los Ángeles and I was one of those hikers. I didn’t really know anyone other than a brief meeting at Pine Grove Furnace the day before. We all got along well and noted how great it was that there were so many hikers there. I continued on mostly alone, encountering Goatman, Dunkin’, Dono, and DoSiDo as well as Kaleidoscope, Ladybug, and Quill.

I ended up going off trail for 2 or more nights a couple more times, but I kept running into the girls. In Vermont we were seeing our plans, intentions, personalities and tastes align. We considered ourselves the “girl bubble” or Gubble for short. We were not a tram that assumed and insisted that we would be together every step of the way. Instead, we were a bubble that came together for birthdays, city stops, and amazing camping trips. We continued to grow and stayed close in New Hampshire.

While I still don’t call ourselves a tram, in Maine we were all so aligned that we stuck together through the big climax of Katahdin, and even a few days beyond Baxter Park. It’s been over 100 days since I officially finished the tour and I’ve been in contact with so many people it’s incredible. While I felt alone for most of my hike, there are so many people who were doing the same thing as me that I consider friends for life. Real-world barriers are broken down and you build friendships with people you would never normally cross paths with, and that’s beautiful. After the first 500 miles I was so against the streetcar that it opened the door to many friendships. I guess what I’m saying is that you too will find your people.

If you’re going hiking or doing LASH, here’s my advice:

• Don’t sacrifice your trail dreams for others, you’ll probably see them again even if you part ways (whether you want to or not).
• Just take responsibility for your own plans, let others take care of theirs.
• Think of everyone out there as your friends, and at Traily, it makes the reunion extra sweet.
• Take photos and get phone numbers! You don’t know when you won’t meet again.
• Know that your people are out there, even if you won’t find them until New England!

Bubble forever!
No shine, no glory!

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