The Tough Decision

At the start of Day 81’s (June 1st) short hike, there was a section of trail that was in high sun, had rocks and tall grasses. Areas like these are hot spots for snake activity. This put my on instant “alert status” which means watching the ground ahead intently. Seemingly idle sticks are often mistaken for snakes that are sun bathing. So, when hiking in places like this, it is prudent to be on the alert.

Leaving the sunny trail behind, I was in tree covered canopy. By now in the season, the trees are fully covered in leaves and the green tunnel I’ve spoken of before is now in full effect. It’s actually a very nice environment in which to hike. You can’t see the distant vistas anymore, but you can see plenty of trees, other plants, the trail and occasional patches of sky. I also provides nice shady conditions during hot days. It had recently rained in this area, so the trail was a bit muddy in places. No problem with that though, since my experience in the Smoky Mountains was far worse!

The bottom line is this – the trail conditions were damn near ideal for continuing my hike as planned. Recall that my plan involved a 3 day jaunt to Erwin, covering approximately 8 miles per day, to regain my trail legs. I was then going to do my best to bust out the remaining trail between Erwin and Damascus – which would place me in Virginia. From there, the plan was to rent a car and drive to Bangor, Maine where I would rendezvous with Grey Wolf and begin hiking the A.T. southbound from Mount Katahdin.

So, with such great hiking conditions, what in the world led to my abandonment of my thru hike attempt? I am still struggling to completely answer that question. I cannot offer any kind of concise “soundbite” type of answer. All I can do is offer my raw thoughts on the matter.

As I hiked on in near-perfect trail and weather conditions, I suddenly noticed that I’d became acutely aware of every sound I heard in the forest. My reaction to these sounds was not what I’d come to expect. Remember that I’d hiked 318 miles prior to this, during which I also experienced a plethora of noises coming from the forest. During that time, nothing ever seriously alarmed me – it was simply a skill building exercise to learn what certain sounds actually were. But today was very different – every sound I heard was producing a state of anxiety in me that I’d not experienced on the trail at all.

This state of anxiety was causing paralyzing thoughts. I would occasionally stop right in the middle of trail and simply stand there for several minutes. During those times I would be questioning myself as to why I was still out here. The anxiety also led to my fearing things that I’d rationalized away months ago – what if a bear appeared? what if I got bit by a snake? what if I encountered some lunatic? Rationally, I knew the answer to all of these questions, but still they caused anxiety. At the conclusion of each stand still, I tentatively hiked on.

I eventually resorted to loud random singing as I hiked. It was an attempt to occupy myself, calm myself and to announce to the forest that someone was coming through and to “make way.” While singing, I tried to simply focus on my immediate destination for the day – a shelter site some 7 miles ahead. I also tried to think of my next stopover point, Erwin, TN. I kept telling myself, “I just have to make it there. I just have to make it there.” But the anxiety persisted. During one of my stops along the trail, I became overwhelmed with another thought: I’d likely be camping alone this evening.

Just as my reaction to the forest sounds was alarming, so was my reaction to the thought of camping alone. But this fact itself was alarming because during the 318 miles I’ve hiked so far, most of that has been hiked alone. I have also camped alone on at least one occasion. None of those previous experiences had caused the levels of anxiety I was feeling here and now.

(Present day note: The preceding section was written right after I left the trail, excepting some minor edits. What follows below was written some 2 weeks later – today, June 15th)

So here I am two weeks later still trying to satisfactorily answer: “What the hell happened?” You already know what happened following my states of anxiety as described above. I was able to call Brenda, who’d just dropped me off an hour ago, and ask her to return to pick me up.

But more to the point: “What the hell happened that caused me to abandon my thru hike attempt?” Well, the immediate cause was the state of anxiety I was in. It was a nearly debilitating state, something I’ve never experienced before. I guess you could say I kinda freaked out. I didn’t feel like this was something I could simply “man-up and push through.” Giving up the hike and returning home seemed the only thing to do.

Having reflected on all of this for a time, I think the anxiety state I experienced was symptomatic of something else. My best guess is that my subconscious knew myself better than I did. I think that I was unable to admit to myself what my subconscious already knew – that I was done with my thru hike attempt.

Looking back on my attempt overall, there were several distinct instances where I questioned my hike and/or left the trail for a time. Each time it happened, I’d have a specific reason and yet I would continue on from where I left.

The first was hiking off the A.T. on the Chunky Gal Trail following that late March sub-freezing night. I stayed in Franklin a few days, then returned to the trail. At Stecoah Gap, I bailed off the trail with 3 miles remaining for the day – due to exhaustion. I returned to the trail the next day. After 4 days of suffering heavy rain in the Smoky’s I bailed to Gatlinburg. (Granted that was a planned stop – but still, emotionally, it was “bailing out.”) Just after returning to the trail from Gatlinburg, I bailed yet again back to Gatlinburg, unplanned. Following this, I was in a chase to catch MotMot and Zeeba which I never did – as they had to leave the trail. (First temporarily, second, permanently) Following their departure, my first “big bail” occurred when I rented a car to return home and re-think my hike. Having decided to continue my hike, I returned to the trail and after 5 days developed severe knee pain. I left the trail once again. I returned once again, and then left again which brings us here.

I think that at some point during all that mess, I was actually done with my hike but was unable to admit it to myself. My subconscious manifested this as a panicked state of anxiety from which there was no return. That’s my best theory.

How do I feel about my decision, and am I ok with it? Well, yes and no. I mean, I have to be ok with the decision; it has happened and is in the past now. How do I feel? Relief and frustration. I feel relief because I no longer have the requirements of a thru hike hanging over me. I feel frustrated because I spent nearly two years preparing for this endeavor and I did not finish it the way I’d planned.

I am going to finish something – but it won’t be a specific distance, nor will it be a specific destination by a specific time. What I will finish is hiking on the Appalachian Trail – it just won’t be the entire Appalachian Trail.

It is also frustrating because I thought some big revelation would happen – which never did. I felt as if there were something to be found on this attempt and it was nowhere to be found. I don’t even know what I was hoping to find – only that I had the feeling that there was something to be found – or perhaps some lesson to be learned.

Indirectly, I suppose, there were a few lessons learned: 1. You can’t escape yourself. At the end of the day, wherever you are, you are still you. I have written before about my Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, INTP, who strive on figuring things out. Once a thing is figured out, it’s just not fun anymore. I learned how to hike the A.T. – once it became repetitive, the fun aspect became elusive. Even the beautiful views, lovely as they are, can’t sustain you long term. Eventually every view starts to look like every other view. If you want to read more about the mind behind this blog, check out the wikipedia article about my personality type: INTP 2. There’s no big secret to life/existence – life is a shitload of work, whether you’re out hiking on some trail day after day or just going to work every day. 3. I learned that I’m a far more social person than I thought. I mean, I never considered myself to be anti-social, but neither did I consider myself a social butterfly. On the trail, interacting with other hikers was one of the most enjoyable aspects.

Another revelation I’ve had: Think about favorite vacation spots – how does one destroy a vacation spot? Simple. Move to it. By doing so, you bring your normal day-to-day life to the vacation spot. The vacation spot will then become “the new normal.” By analogy, had I forced myself to continue this thru hike attempt, I may well have destroyed hiking and camping as an enjoyable activity for me.

So I have to conclude that my thru hike attempt was over some time ago, I simply didn’t know it. It took a “perfect storm” of events to happen until I realized it. Even though I have accepted this, I still ask myself daily why didn’t I just push harder? Why didn’t I make decision A instead of decision B? These questions are pointless, but they will nevertheless haunt me for a long time. Honestly, I would be concerned if these questions did not haunt me. For one doesn’t take on a challenge like this, spend two years preparing for it, and not experience some disappointment at failing to meet the objective.

I have stated before that, although I am done with my thru attempt, I am not done with the A.T. I have a plan to return to a different point on the trail and to hike with friends for an unspecified time and distance. That will be the subject of the next post… Coming soon.

Wandering On…

Mojo.

PS… Yes, I’m still wandering. Life is wandering, I am alive, therefore I am wandering. And yes, I am keeping my trail name: Mojo.