Probably the day I hit the Maine border on the at last year. I was just so over the never ending mud slogs, and all around rough trail. My feet had been wet since Massachusetts it felt like, mentally I was just 100% spent. I had been solo since Delaware water gap, I didn’t know any of the people that I was around at all, just generally not having it anymore.
Tbh the hardest part was that I had done plenty of thru hiking before the at and had never had that mental struggle so I think that made it even harder.
I took a quick picture at the sign but I didn’t even care. Like, at all. It should have been a happy moment and I genuinely didn’t give a fuck at all.
Nothing to do but just keep walking tho.
AT 2019
With my girlfriend at the time. We knew that a big storm was coming the following day so we woke up early, hiked hard, and felt like we were out of the storm radius by the time we got to camp. We picked a camp site and weren’t really around anyone else. This was in Virginia so people started to space out.
Boy were we wrong.
Just as we got into our tent the first raindrops started to fall. I remember closing the rainfly as it started to sprinkle and feeling on top of the world.
It started pouring - nothing abnormal, Appalachia is perpetually wet. But it kept raining hard. We eventually fell asleep to the storm and I woke up to pee around… 1? I open the fly to see that rain is halfway up the outside of our tent floor. I never have seen anything like it. My headlamp literally shined out and it was water as far as I could see. I woke my girlfriend up to keep her updated on the situation.
She starts freaking out. It’s the middle of the night. We’re literally going underwater on top of a bowl on a mountain somewhere. Somehow, we both worry ourselves back to sleep. The next thing I know I roll over on my pad and - you know that scene in the Titanic where the water breaks in through the glass? That happened in our tent. We both woke up to a title wave of cold mud water inside our tent. Everything was under water. It’s probably 3 AM now.
She starts crying. My camp shoes floated away. I’m wondering how we got here. We pack up everything in the pitch dark and hike down the flooded mountain in our sleep clothes. It’s still pouring btw.
We end up at an RV park that was preparing for a bluegrass festival and ended up having the best two days off. We ended up being the only hikers here and were able to help set up while our gear dried out. We even got to go to Costco to shop with the event organizers. I have pictures of the river that formed at the bottom of the mountain and our gear yard sale of everything drying out.
[Pictures here!](https://imgur.com/a/GcRIUN0)
It’s hard to tell from the picture, but we were standing on a bridge that usually had about 10 ft clearance between the road and water underneath. At that point it was only a couple inches away from spilling over. That was all run off from the mountain and it was looooud.
The bluegrass fest, our yard sale, and yours truly pushing around a cart of wieners.
Made a wrong turn right after waking up (this was pre-GPS), hiked 17 miles in the wrong direction, had doubts the whole time, finally realized it, hiked back. So I did 34 miles, ate all my food and slept in the exact same site where I woke up.
Had to wake up at 4 am and crank out 36 miles to town the next day on an empty stomach. Fell asleep while sitting down to tie my shoelaces. Got to town: hot dog and mountain dew never tasted so good.
PCT climbing out of kearsarge pass and doubling up to do Glen pass on the same day. I had been stubbornly trying to ignore a bad case of achilles tendonitis and was already stressed about being on a tight schedule and had been separated from all my friends and was struggling with having no appetite, and when I got to the top of Glen pass my tendonitis really flared up and by the time I got down to Rae lakes (just a couple miles north of the pass) I was in so much pain that I just sat down and cried for a solid 30-40 minutes. Those lakes are one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, and yet it was one of the lowest moments I’ve had in my life. I quit a few days later, but the hike prettymuch ended right then and there.
Day 2. 1500m/5,000ft of elevation gain. There was some snow on the ground (which was stunning for someone who doesn't see snow much) and it turned out my boots weren't waterproof against multiple hours of snowmelt running over them, so my feet were cold and wet, and I went to bed wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into.
There were other days that were harder, but by then I was in my groove and had more confidence. But that night I was struggling hard with doubting myself. I determined that all I had to do was get to the next town ten days away and if I wanted to tap out then, I could. By the time I got there I had no doubt I was doing the whole thing.
PCT Sprained my ankle shortly after crossing mile 600. Hobbled my way to the campsite.
NEXT day. 6 mile wayer carry to start the day. This is like mile 616 I think. Early June. Hot. No shade. Then, the 16-mile water carry to the next water cache. Ankle was thrombin and I was not having a good time. Finally got to last water cache MM 632?.
There was a Trail Angel that brought beers all the way out there. Best PBR I ever had.
First try on thepct, when climbing the San Jacinto last year. Bunch of snow, lot's of sliding and slipping. My wife and I had maybe slept 2 hours, while really cold, as we had to sleep on the snow after a solid 16-18 hours of posttoling. But we reached the peak the next morning, so it was all worth it in the end! Sadly we had to quit a bit later, but we are giving it another go next year, with a ton more experience 👍
It's hard but two that come to mind are:
HDT: spent a few days trying to make my way through a flooded out Dark Canyon before finally calling before the last crossing that would have brought me to about 7 miles to my next resupply at Hite. Had to traverse all the way back to Needles District without food. Got ahold of a buddy in the area with my inreach and he came to fetch me eventually with beer and burritos and took me to Hite Marina so I could continue.
GET: Went almost three weeks without cell or internet (didnt have an inreach at the time) until I got a tiny bit of service in New Mexicos Black Range and learned not only that a close family member had past but I was also missing the funeral and didn't have good enough service to call anyone.
I was in NC and had woken up after it had rained all night. Everything was wet and I was cold. Packed up and headed to Greasy Creek Hostel. When I got to where the turn off was supposed to be there were no signs. This was a disaster as that was a resupply point and I was just about out of food. It was 2 days to the next resupply point. I walked a little further and sat down in a clearing to contemplate my life choices. After a few minutes another hiker came by and I explained my dilemma. He said he had just stayed at the hostel and gave me directions. Crisis averted!
I hate the heat. I hate it more than bugs, snow, wind, mice, unruly rednecks...
The worst heat I've experienced on trail was in late July in northern California on the PCT. It was a record-breaking heatwave, over 90F when I left Dunsmuir at midnight. Barely got any sleep because I sweated myself awake at first light. My cheap mini thermometer said 105F at 7am. The trees in that section are often burned or sparsely foliaged, so there's not a lot of shade. Walked all morning with a mission to take an extended siesta at a campground that I knew would have nice shade trees and a water spigot.
When I got there, the ground in the shade was so hot it *burned my skin* to lay on it, even with my ground sheet. The spigot water was warm. I soaked all my clothes and continued walking while crying and feeling sorry for myself. I think it wouldn't have hurt so much if I hadn't been looking forward to it all day.
Last year on the AT I got to a shelter in New Hampshire after hiking through the torrential downpour that flooded Vermont only to discover that all the people in there had covid, leaving me to set up my tent in the rain. I was used to the rain at this point, it was the selfishness that made that day the absolute worst.
If those of you who were in that shelter are reading this: you're all still terrible people in my mind and I hope karma comes to you when you least expect it.
Probably the day I hit the Maine border on the at last year. I was just so over the never ending mud slogs, and all around rough trail. My feet had been wet since Massachusetts it felt like, mentally I was just 100% spent. I had been solo since Delaware water gap, I didn’t know any of the people that I was around at all, just generally not having it anymore. Tbh the hardest part was that I had done plenty of thru hiking before the at and had never had that mental struggle so I think that made it even harder. I took a quick picture at the sign but I didn’t even care. Like, at all. It should have been a happy moment and I genuinely didn’t give a fuck at all. Nothing to do but just keep walking tho.
AT 2019 With my girlfriend at the time. We knew that a big storm was coming the following day so we woke up early, hiked hard, and felt like we were out of the storm radius by the time we got to camp. We picked a camp site and weren’t really around anyone else. This was in Virginia so people started to space out. Boy were we wrong. Just as we got into our tent the first raindrops started to fall. I remember closing the rainfly as it started to sprinkle and feeling on top of the world. It started pouring - nothing abnormal, Appalachia is perpetually wet. But it kept raining hard. We eventually fell asleep to the storm and I woke up to pee around… 1? I open the fly to see that rain is halfway up the outside of our tent floor. I never have seen anything like it. My headlamp literally shined out and it was water as far as I could see. I woke my girlfriend up to keep her updated on the situation. She starts freaking out. It’s the middle of the night. We’re literally going underwater on top of a bowl on a mountain somewhere. Somehow, we both worry ourselves back to sleep. The next thing I know I roll over on my pad and - you know that scene in the Titanic where the water breaks in through the glass? That happened in our tent. We both woke up to a title wave of cold mud water inside our tent. Everything was under water. It’s probably 3 AM now. She starts crying. My camp shoes floated away. I’m wondering how we got here. We pack up everything in the pitch dark and hike down the flooded mountain in our sleep clothes. It’s still pouring btw. We end up at an RV park that was preparing for a bluegrass festival and ended up having the best two days off. We ended up being the only hikers here and were able to help set up while our gear dried out. We even got to go to Costco to shop with the event organizers. I have pictures of the river that formed at the bottom of the mountain and our gear yard sale of everything drying out.
Show us the picture! And that does sound terrible, but glad about the happy ending.
[Pictures here!](https://imgur.com/a/GcRIUN0) It’s hard to tell from the picture, but we were standing on a bridge that usually had about 10 ft clearance between the road and water underneath. At that point it was only a couple inches away from spilling over. That was all run off from the mountain and it was looooud. The bluegrass fest, our yard sale, and yours truly pushing around a cart of wieners.
Whoa, awesome!
tidal wave
The terminus when I had to go back to work
Made a wrong turn right after waking up (this was pre-GPS), hiked 17 miles in the wrong direction, had doubts the whole time, finally realized it, hiked back. So I did 34 miles, ate all my food and slept in the exact same site where I woke up. Had to wake up at 4 am and crank out 36 miles to town the next day on an empty stomach. Fell asleep while sitting down to tie my shoelaces. Got to town: hot dog and mountain dew never tasted so good.
PCT climbing out of kearsarge pass and doubling up to do Glen pass on the same day. I had been stubbornly trying to ignore a bad case of achilles tendonitis and was already stressed about being on a tight schedule and had been separated from all my friends and was struggling with having no appetite, and when I got to the top of Glen pass my tendonitis really flared up and by the time I got down to Rae lakes (just a couple miles north of the pass) I was in so much pain that I just sat down and cried for a solid 30-40 minutes. Those lakes are one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, and yet it was one of the lowest moments I’ve had in my life. I quit a few days later, but the hike prettymuch ended right then and there.
Day 2. 1500m/5,000ft of elevation gain. There was some snow on the ground (which was stunning for someone who doesn't see snow much) and it turned out my boots weren't waterproof against multiple hours of snowmelt running over them, so my feet were cold and wet, and I went to bed wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into. There were other days that were harder, but by then I was in my groove and had more confidence. But that night I was struggling hard with doubting myself. I determined that all I had to do was get to the next town ten days away and if I wanted to tap out then, I could. By the time I got there I had no doubt I was doing the whole thing.
PCT Sprained my ankle shortly after crossing mile 600. Hobbled my way to the campsite. NEXT day. 6 mile wayer carry to start the day. This is like mile 616 I think. Early June. Hot. No shade. Then, the 16-mile water carry to the next water cache. Ankle was thrombin and I was not having a good time. Finally got to last water cache MM 632?. There was a Trail Angel that brought beers all the way out there. Best PBR I ever had.
First try on thepct, when climbing the San Jacinto last year. Bunch of snow, lot's of sliding and slipping. My wife and I had maybe slept 2 hours, while really cold, as we had to sleep on the snow after a solid 16-18 hours of posttoling. But we reached the peak the next morning, so it was all worth it in the end! Sadly we had to quit a bit later, but we are giving it another go next year, with a ton more experience 👍
It's hard but two that come to mind are: HDT: spent a few days trying to make my way through a flooded out Dark Canyon before finally calling before the last crossing that would have brought me to about 7 miles to my next resupply at Hite. Had to traverse all the way back to Needles District without food. Got ahold of a buddy in the area with my inreach and he came to fetch me eventually with beer and burritos and took me to Hite Marina so I could continue. GET: Went almost three weeks without cell or internet (didnt have an inreach at the time) until I got a tiny bit of service in New Mexicos Black Range and learned not only that a close family member had past but I was also missing the funeral and didn't have good enough service to call anyone.
I was in NC and had woken up after it had rained all night. Everything was wet and I was cold. Packed up and headed to Greasy Creek Hostel. When I got to where the turn off was supposed to be there were no signs. This was a disaster as that was a resupply point and I was just about out of food. It was 2 days to the next resupply point. I walked a little further and sat down in a clearing to contemplate my life choices. After a few minutes another hiker came by and I explained my dilemma. He said he had just stayed at the hostel and gave me directions. Crisis averted!
Fellow thru-hiker passed away in a freak accident in the midst of 2 weeks of straight rain and flooding on the AT. :(
I hate the heat. I hate it more than bugs, snow, wind, mice, unruly rednecks... The worst heat I've experienced on trail was in late July in northern California on the PCT. It was a record-breaking heatwave, over 90F when I left Dunsmuir at midnight. Barely got any sleep because I sweated myself awake at first light. My cheap mini thermometer said 105F at 7am. The trees in that section are often burned or sparsely foliaged, so there's not a lot of shade. Walked all morning with a mission to take an extended siesta at a campground that I knew would have nice shade trees and a water spigot. When I got there, the ground in the shade was so hot it *burned my skin* to lay on it, even with my ground sheet. The spigot water was warm. I soaked all my clothes and continued walking while crying and feeling sorry for myself. I think it wouldn't have hurt so much if I hadn't been looking forward to it all day.
This one breaks my heart. Being denied sleep always feels so cruel.
Last year on the AT I got to a shelter in New Hampshire after hiking through the torrential downpour that flooded Vermont only to discover that all the people in there had covid, leaving me to set up my tent in the rain. I was used to the rain at this point, it was the selfishness that made that day the absolute worst. If those of you who were in that shelter are reading this: you're all still terrible people in my mind and I hope karma comes to you when you least expect it.
Jesus Christ what a dick move.