How I Got My Route Name on the AT and What’s Next

Hello! I’m Beast Mode. I’m incredibly excited to be a The Trek blogger in 2026, and I’m excited to start this year with my first post! I thought I’d start with an introduction about myself, or rather, an introduction to Beast Mode, the person I’m following. Read on to learn how my passion for hiking began, how I got my trail named, and what my plans are for this year!

How it all started

I am very proud and grateful to come from a family with roots in the Adirondacks. My grandparents (who happen to share their name with the Adirondack High Peaks) met and fell in love there. When I was a child, my grandmother used to run mountains with her friends. So it is not surprising that I also fell in love with the mountains.

I am so grateful that my parents helped spark my lifelong love of hiking by taking me to my first High Peak when I was just 6 years old. I remember my dad telling me that the 46 High Peaks are some of the most difficult trails in the country. I didn’t believe him until I first set foot on the Appalachian Trail in Georgia and was surprised at how easy it was.

I joke that, to this day, my greatest hiking accomplishment is climbing Whiteface Mountain in jean shorts and an Ariel sweatshirt.

As my love for hiking grew, I eventually moved south and found myself not far from the Appalachian Trail. And so began my passion for long-distance hiking…

So…why do they call you Beast Mode?

As a section hiker, I am very fortunate to have earned the trail name early in my trip on the Appalachian Trail, as it seems that section hikers sometimes miss out on aspects of trail culture. For those unfamiliar with trail names, long-distance hikers are often given a nickname that represents who they are on the trail. Trail names are usually silly or funny and have a reason why they were given.

I’ve often thought that perhaps trail names are used as a way to leave your old identity behind to find a new one on the trail. In a practical sense, they are also useful for keeping your real name private when you meet so many strangers from all over the world.

Although I have known some hikers who named their own trail, I agree with those who argue that hikers should not choose their own trail name. I think part of the novelty and purpose of a trail name is being able to share the story behind the name. I love hearing new trail names and the stories behind them.

So here is my story:

When I started hiking in sections, the shuttle driver I used was often impressed by how I could walk farther and faster than most of the other hikers I traveled with. “Can you say ‘Beast Mode?’” he yelled as he pulled into the parking lot to pick me up at the end of my walks, where he had been waiting long before his scheduled pick-up time.

At first I wasn’t really sure if I liked the name. Me, Beast Mode? Most of the hikers I had seen on the trail seemed much more experienced than me, so it’s not a fair comparison. I am also small, quiet and quite modest looking. I’m not exactly the fierce, imposing hiker people might imagine when they hear «Beast Mode.»

Become beast mode

The first time I told someone the name of my trail was another shuttle driver who dropped me off at a trailhead in Tennessee. “You’re definitely going to need to be in Beast Mode tonight,” the driver said, referring to the fact that the temperature was going to drop to 20 degrees Fahrenheit overnight.

However, not everyone agreed with my new name. While checking into a hostel and filling out paperwork with my legal and route names, an employee noticed my route name and seemed skeptical. I felt embarrassed, especially since it was one of the first times I had officially used it. I also had doubts about my plan to complete a 45 mile section in 2 days. The next morning, as he was driving me to the trailhead, he asked, «Are you sure? It’s a pretty difficult section.» Less than 24 hours later, while walking back to the hostel grounds, he saw me and said, «Well, I guess you’re Beast Mode.»

And from then on, I fully accepted the name of my path.

For the next three years of hiking the Appalachian Trail, I used my trail name as a testament and reminder of who I was. Yes, I was a lonely, modest-looking woman balancing full-time work while conquering difficult mountains. The stronger I got, the more miles I pushed myself to walk in a day and the greater the challenges. I went on to complete several 30+ mile days, the Wilderness 100 Miles in 3.5 days, the fastest known time on a section of the trail, and the Presidential Traverse on the 4th of July (complete with nature’s fireworks, aka lightning bolts). I actually went up a pant size my first year of AT hiking because of the amount of muscle I gained (and I’m someone who lifted and trained a lot as a former collegiate athlete!).

The AT transformed me from a nervous hiker who had never done an overnight hike before to a section hiker who completed sections of up to 200 miles solo. One of my favorite memories that I think my trail name embodies is when I was visited in the middle of the night by a black bear. This happened in early spring in Virginia, so I was sleeping alone in a shelter. I had no choice but to scare the bear myself by swinging a broom and yelling at it. And to think: I slept so well that night afterwards!

I am proud that I chose time and time again not to listen to those who questioned the challenges I set for myself and instead lived up to the name I had earned for myself.

Hiking the AT in New Hampshire: One of the Hardest (and Beautiful!) Sections

The big plan for 2026 (and beyond!)

If you’ve made it this far to my first blog post, you might be wondering what my plans are for this year. I’ve been a little worried about sharing because, to be honest, I’ve set a pretty intimidating goal for myself. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the Appalachian Trail and life in general, it’s that not everything goes as planned. I’m quite nervous because I’m all too familiar with travel disruptions, injuries, health issues, and pushing my physical and mental limits, all of which can complicate or completely derail such an ambitious goal.

But I live by the quote: «If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.» So here goes: My goal is to hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail in sections in 5 years. It’s going to be pretty difficult, considering I live on the east coast and work full time. Last year, I completed a 200-mile section in northern Oregon, which means I still have 2,450 miles to go. There are many kilometers to travel in the next 4 years. So I’ve set a pretty challenging goal for myself by 2026 to walk at least 900 miles (yikes!). I have chosen to make some sacrifices this year to make this happen.

So let’s see what happens! Stay tuned for some great adventures this year and thanks for following along!

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