There are a million clichés out there: actions speak louder than words, don’t judge a book by its cover, the grass is always greener, to name a few. The backpacking and thru-hiking world has its own set of clichés that hikers use. But clichés come from somewhere and usually have a reason. Sometimes you have to see past the obvious and realize there’s some backpacking clichés to take seriously.
It’s About the Journey, Not the Destination
I know. Insert eye roll here. But hang on, just hear me out on this one: it’s about the journey not the destination. Seriously. This could not be more applicable to thru-hiking. I read an AT opinion article that expressed that a successful thru-hike would be to hike from Springer Mountain to the campground at the base of Mount Katahdin but skip Katahdin itself. But mention this to an aspiring AT thru-hiker and you will get shut down pretty immediately.
Which I get. When I thru-hiked, you had better believe I was not skipping Katahdin. But the concept, that the point of living in the woods whilst walking through 14 states isn’t for the purpose of hiking that one mountain on that one day, is a pretty important one.
Before I left for the AT I had a list of things that were important to me on my thru-hike that I went out of my way to make happen. It might be on the list of backpacking clichés, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget that the journey was the important part.
McAfee Knob
McAfee knob is one of the iconic AT spots and I, unfortunately, caught it on a bad weather day. I ended up doing an extra 7.4 miles and hiking it twice. The first time, we were racing up to it, trying to beat the weather, but we didn’t make it before the clouds and dense fog set in. There I was, at the most photographed spot on the Appalachian Trail, and I couldn’t even see it.
Luckily, my Dad was visiting me at the time so I was able to re-do McAfee Knob as a day hike. I lost a day of hiking and fell behind my tramily but it was worth it. I couldn’t (and wouldn’t) re-do every spoiled viewpoint, but McAfee Knob is such a symbolic spot and I just couldn’t miss it.
Woods Hole Hostel
Woods Hole Hostel is one of those hostels that AT hikers talk about and, from what I had heard, I decided it was an important AT experience. When my tramily and I got close it was apparent that, miles wise, it wasn’t a convenient stop. It was off-beat with our re-supply, and meant a much shorter day than what we would have normally done. I didn’t care. I was going. And I am so glad I did. Even now, years later, it’s one of my more prevalent AT memories.
Sidewinder be Sidewindin’
My trail name ended up being Sidewinder because I hiked so many extra miles to cool spots that were a little off trail. Some were popular blue blazes, even amongst thru-hikers, such as Stony Man in Shenandoah but, overall, it really surprised me how many thru-hikers had Katahdin tunnel vision and wouldn’t deviate even a few tenths of a mile off trail. I met one hiker who actually scoffed at me when he learned that I went .5 miles off trail one day to summit Mount Rogers, the highest point in Virginia. He told me, “If it doesn’t have a white blaze, I don’t have time for it.” To each their own, and I truly mean that, but, in my opinion, what’s the point in taking on the adventure if you skip all the cool stuff along the way?
Hike Your Own Hike
Every thru-hiker has heard this term thrown around. Usually with attitude. This is the backpacking cliché that reigns over all other backpacking clichés. When someone says, “hike your own hike,” they’re really saying either, “hike your own hike even though you’re clearly doing it wrong,” or, “hike your own hike and leave me alone.” But, in its most sincere form, this backpacking cliché has a good sentiment.
After falling behind my friends when I redid McAfee Knob, I put in a big-mile day to catch up to them. That night was the chilliest in a while and I slept poorly. The next day the group planned on a 22-mile day. I was exhausted and moving slow. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed my hike that day, but I just wasn’t in top form. By midafternoon I noticed that I was tripping. A lot. My body was just too tired. I stopped early instead of risking hurting myself because I was too tired to walk properly. I ended up camping at 18 miles instead of 22 and was again separated from my group.
And you know what? It was great. By not doing those extra miles I was able to still enjoy my day instead of getting grumpy because I pushed too hard. Then, the next day, I was able to appreciate those four miles because I was fresh instead of forcing myself through them at the end of a tiring day.
It was a good learning experience. Because, backpacking cliché or not, it really is important to hike your own hike. I promised myself after that night that I would continue to do so. I realized that too often along the first third of the journey, I did too many things for the group and not for myself. As long as you’re honest, following LNT principles, and not hurting anyone, then cliché it up and hike your own hike.
