Day 0

02/29/12 - Acworth, GA - 0 miles

I am literally cramming my gear into my pack trying to fit everything.  Not finished yet, and it's getting late.

***

This first entry of our 178 day journey makes me laugh a lot.
 

Longing

Five days until we begin our thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail.

That's what we were saying at this time last year.  Five more days to wind things down and make some final preparations before setting forth.

I cannot believe it has already been one year since we began that journey.  The feelings I have now are surreal and reminiscent.  I was speaking with Anna about it the other day (as we do most days), and the best way I could describe my emotions was to compare the Trail to a loved one.  Being away, either physically or emotionally, from someone you love.  You long to be with that person again.  To hold them.  Kiss them.  Talk with them.  Be with them.

My intent is not to be an emo over here.  Life is still wonderful, and there is so much that I am currently thankful and happy for.  So much!

That being said, I am eternally grateful for our time on the Appalachian Trail.  There is nothing in my life that has compared to those memories, and since we are coming up on our one year "setting forth" anniversary, I wanted to give you kind people a fair warning:

Brace yourselves.

WalkOutside posts are coming.

Probably daily.

My desire is to share a piece of my personal AT journal for each day we were on the Trail.  Not everything.  Maybe just a sentence or two.  I invite you all to read it and follow along as you did with us on the Trail, but I do not expect anything from you.  I will not be hurt if you don't read or don't comment or don't care.  Because this, in a lot of ways, is for me.

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I type this even now.

I believe it's important and beneficial to look back on our lives and see where we've come from and what we've accomplished.  To remember and reinspire.

I'm looking forward to reopening that mud-stained moleskine journal and revisiting Appalachia once again.

 

Near Woody Gap, GA

 

Panther Creek Falls

"and the sun, it does not cause us to grow
it is the rain that will strengthen your soul
and it will make you whole"
 - The Oh Hellos "I Have Made Mistakes"

I have been listening to their album, Through the Deep, Dark Valley, almost nonstop these past few days thanks to my sister's recommendation.  Good stuff.  Especially while driving to North Georgia on a misty Thursday morning.  I decided to make a short getaway to the Cohutta Wilderness in Georgia's Chattahoochee National Forest.

I needed to breathe that sweet mountain air.

I'm starting a new job this coming week, and though I'm very much excited about it and looking forward to having a steady schedule with free weekends... I wanted some time with the trees before diving in.

I had not been camping since the Trail.  The last time I was in a tent was in Baxter State Park, Maine, the night before climbing Mount Katahdin.  It had been too long, and my heart was racing as I prepared my gear.

Everything brought back fond memories of our time on the Appalachian Trail.

My packing routine.
The smell of my pack and rain jacket.
Lacing my boots.
The grip of my trekking poles.
The smoke of a campfire mixed with wet soil and leaves.
The pitter patter of rain against my tent.
Reading my Kindle while wearing four layers of warmth.
Bear bagging my food.
Wading across frigid water.
Purifying my water in a cold stream.
Even the pain in my legs and feet reminded me of the pain we felt on the Trail.

I hiked to a spot my father and brother and I frequently visit when camping in the Cohutta.  Panther Creek Falls.  It can be a strenuous hike but has a rewarding view once you arrive.  I camped right at the top of the falls (only about a tenth of a mile from where Anna and I camped during our only practice overnight before the thru-hike).  It rained on me almost the entire time with the exception of the last couple hours as I hiked back to my car.  Very appropriate, I believe.

The rain reminds me of what I have.  Even on a short excursion like this, I was looking forward to a hot meal and shower when I returned home.

I want more constant reminders of how good I really have it.  I think going into the woods helps put things in a bit of perspective.  That's something I could really take away from thru-hiking the AT.  When you have less, you appreciate more.

If it is always sunny, how will we grow?