Adapting to life on trail

I just finished my 9th day of hiking, an easy 3 miles before getting a ride into the small town of Franklin, North Carolina, for my first truly restful day. For the sake of simplification, and to follow rules of writing I learned in high school, getting used to things out here has 3 areas of note: physical, mental, and cultural. 

Physically, the day to day grind of big miles is something I was excited about, thought I would enjoy, and am enjoying. However, the other sensations were an unknown. There are more tiny discomforts than I think I expected. They are easily ignored on a weekend trip, but less so when this is semi-permanent.  I’m constantly a little frustrated by: my filth/odor, lots of pre-blisters, mysterious minor injuries on my feet appearing seemingly at random, not being able to sit with something to lean back on, never having a truly comfortable bed, food quality being lacking at best etc etc. I am happy to report, they are nowhere near annoying enough to make me rethink this. They do make for a fun feeling of excitement every time I approach civilization. I am curious how I’ll feel about these over time. 

Mental adjustments have been quite different; I love the simplicity of having so few things to do, and genuinely wanting to do each and every one of them. The hard part, I’ve found, is picking the mission statement to drive those. I came out here to have fun, but I’ve learned I need to be a little more specific, through my recent dilemma of taking a down day or continuing on. Do I want the highest chance of finishing? To spend as much time in nature as possible? To only spend the minimum time in nature to stay as comfortable as possible (still a LOT of time in nature)? I hope to find some more specific guiding ideologies soon.

The cultural shift is noteworthy, especially compared to life in Boston: people are very kind, nobody is in a rush, and it feels a little like a cult or religion (that I’m mostly into). To illustrate this, I’ll describe my experience at Stanimal’s Around the Bend Hostel (it’s a 10 minute walk away from the AT), mostly by their complete lack of interest in making money, but also their casual attitude about everything.

Stanimals is owned and operated by former thru-hikers Megs and, you guessed it, Stanimal. If you pay the modest fee of $45, you receive: a bed, shower, laundry, water, shuttle services, and access to all of the amenities of their house. It’s all very clean and nice. If you pay the added fee of $3, you get unlimited pancakes for breakfast. However, since I met Megs a couple days ago, and said “Megs sent me” my breakfast was free. I signed up for the shuttle service into town, which meant that a dude named “Lone Wolf” would give me a ride wherever I needed to go. Turns out I had dinner with him a few nights ago; he’s a 5 time thru-hiker doing some hiking/checking in on friends around the trail as a 40-year anniversary of his first. I needed to go to the glasses place to fix my frames, and the grocery store, he patiently waited for me at both spots and wouldn’t take a tip. Got some “good old days” and “you guys have it so easy” stories. Upon return, I was offered free BBQ and beer. They also operate a small shop selling high end ultralight hiking gear, but the store is all on the honors system, like how you would expect sodas/bags of chips to be sold. We are given the instructions “we get 30% off msrp everything, so just knock that off of whatever you see.” Mind you, this stuff can be >300 dollars. I opted for an item with no price tag, was told it was 35 bucks, and “call it 20.” If you do the math, this is not 30%, it’s 43%. My experience there feels representative of a lot of this; generosity, patience, and kindness are all more visible more than in my usual life, and that’s nice. 

One other cultural thing I like is the equal playing field this puts us on. Everyone is doing the same thing, from the girls who just graduated college, the Harvard PHD Minister, the CEO of a brick and mortar company (maybe empire???), the recently retired, the unemployed job searching while hiking, the unemployed just hiking, there truly isn’t a hierarchy.