And by that, I mean I'm starting my first-ever thru-hike: the Long Trail in Vermont!
How did I get here? On March 11, I spent some quality time Googling the Crest Trail, intending to start planning for a fun summer trip with my partner. What I didn't know until that Google search was that there are actually (at least) two Crest Trails: the Teton Crest Trail, which is between 35 and 45 miles, and the Pacific Crest Trail, which is a 2,650 mile thru-hike from Mexico to Canada. At first, the idea of a thru-hike seemed absolutely bonkers to me, especially since I had only ever done two-day overnight trips (none of them backpacking) and didn't even have my own backpacking pack. I quickly ruled out the thought of ever doing something like the PCT (although I should never say never), but I also quickly started Googling things like "short thru hikes" & saw the Long Trail featured on almost every list. Thus, planning my thru-hike adventure began! I'm very much a look-before-I-leap type of person, so the impulsive decision was slightly out of character for me. Let's chalk it up to one year of COVID, 3 semesters of online classes, and a strong desire to travel ASAP once my college's county travel limit no longer applied :) More than that, though, the Long Trail was so exciting to me because it would give me a chance to do something that is completely, 100%, my "thing." My partner and friends happen to be exceptionally outdoorsy people who have casually run marathons, can rock climb routes with one hand behind their back (literally) that challenge me with all 4 limbs, and know their stuff when it comes to camping. And while I've always loved to be along for the ride on the adventures, the LT was something that felt totally out of my comfort zone, but also totally in my wheelhouse. A brief summary The LT is an (approximately) 273 mile hike through the state of Vermont, more affectionately known as "Vermud," that comes close to towns but never passes through them. The route is the oldest continuous footpath in the United States and was built before there were switchbacks, which means it goes straight up and over peaks rather than winding its way up the mountains or between them. So why do I think I'm capable of taking on the LT? It is (extremely) physically demanding but also newbie friendly: it will be tough as hell, but I'll never be more than 3 days from a town or more than 10 miles from a road, which makes it (relatively) easy to bail and/or seek help if it's needed. I've spent years running XC, training for several half (and one full) marathons, and navigating some incredibly challenging emotional losses/hardships, all of which have helped me develop a strong sense of mental and physical resilience. I also love planning, which lends itself well to mapping out my main route, making contingency plans, scheduling resupplies, and locking in my gear (all of which are just a little important for a thru hike). Being completely honest, I would definitely have preferred to have more experience under my belt before starting the LT, but I can't go back in time & know this is probably one of the last summers where I will not need to navigate the headache of paid time off, so the idea of getting on the LT before post-college responsibilities take over is incredibly appealing. So what am I doing? I'll be attempting a SOBO (southbound) End-to-End thru hike of the trail, starting at the Journey's End parking lot in Northern Vermont and making my way down to the southern terminus at the border of Vermont and Massachusetts. Right now, I'm estimating that it will take me 24 days with one "zero day" of no mileage and two "nearo" days where I go fewer than 10 miles. I'll average 11.8 miles per day and will resupply 5 times: twice from meeting up with people and three times in towns (Johnson, Killington, and Manchester), all of which are within 3 miles one-way from the LT. That's important because I have no desire to hitchhike, both because I'll be a solo female for most of the trip (my incredible friend is doing the first few days with me!!) and because we're still in a global pandemic. Aren't you scared? Um, honestly, yes. The scariest thing for me in this moment is the thought of camping solo overnight — it's genuinely a little panic inducing. I'm bringing melatonin and earplugs and plan to stay in the shelters along the trail as often as possible to (hopefully) have some company. I'm also bringing a headlamp with extra batteries that will allow me to night-hike if I'm ever getting bad vibes from someone in a shelter with me (although the odds of that are incredibly slim). BUT I have my water purification system set up, my gear is purchased, and my food is planned, so those variables don't feel nearly as overwhelming as they did at first. And to be blunt, I'm sick of not doing things just because I'm scared. Life is too short for me to be content with sticking to safe choices. As my high school communications teacher always reminded me, "Uncomfortable is good, unsafe is bad." I'm 99% confident that I have eliminated any chances for something outside of an act of God to result in a life-threatening situation and have done my research on animal/human/medical/etc safety for the trail, so all that I'm left with is discomfort — so to the LT I go. I Go to Seek a Great Perhaps Here's the thing: I have no idea what will happen over these next 24 days. Well, I'll walk a lot and will stop in some towns and will encounter rain and mud and black flies. But besides that, expectations are low and excitement is high. And while I have no intentions of bailing at this point, I will absolutely get off the trail if I believe that my safety (or the safety of those around me) will be compromised, whether that's due to illness or injury or something else. Otherwise, I'm sticking it out. It'll be hard (really hard) and the miles will be long (sometimes really long), but I also know that I will learn so much while simultaneously reminding myself that 1. nature is amazing 2. my body is amazing (and capable of doing so much) and 3. that I have the chance to make every day of my life into an amazing adventure, regardless of where I am. I'll close out this novel of a post with a nod to one of my favorite books. "Francois Rabelais. He was a great poet. And his last words were 'I go to seek a Great Perhaps.' That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps." — Miles, Looking for Alaska.
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