So it had been an interesting day. Frigid winds had frozen my gloveless hands, I got the worst wind burn I have ever experienced, and someone walked in on me whilst I was in the privy…but I got over Blood Mountain, and the weather had cleared for a spell to let me take in the views. I had been dreading the walk up and over the mountain, as many a hiker had sucked in their breath and talked about it in hushed tones, but it turned out to be less painful than I had anticipated. As always seems to be the case with these things, the tale grew in the telling. (I mean I will happily tell you about the 600 pound bear that stole my food in the Smoky Mountains. Ask me anytime. “Oh, the 700 pound bear story? Well it was a dark and stormy night…”)

Now I was tucked up safely in Blood Mountain Cabins, with the heater blazing in the corner whilst the wind howled outside. My belly was full, my clothes had been washed, I had just had my first shower in 3 days and I was hanging out with some very fine people. So, all things considered, things were going pretty well. But after talking to my wife and kids on the phone for the first time in a couple of days I was feeling a little low.

I missed them, I missed the dogs, my legs hurt, my stupid face was throbbing from the wind burn, and my knees told me in no uncertain terms that they would not be forgiving me anytime soon. It had only been a few days on the trail, but it felt like a lot longer.

The trail, man, it does strange things with time. Talking to K2 and Doo (who I had met on the first night on the trail but it felt like I had known them for a lot longer) the conversation came around to why we were doing this long distance hiking thing. K2, who had thru-hiked a few years earlier said something that stuck with me.

“People always ask me what my best experience was on the trail and I always struggle to answer. Was it MacAfee knob? Summiting Katadhin? I can’t clearly tell you. But ask me my worst experience and I can give you a top ten list right now, ranked from absolute worst. Man, I could probably give you my top 100” – K2

I laughed at that, because without a doubt one of the worst days of my life was on a hike, yet here I was attempting to hike 2190 miles.

My first real hiking adventure was a 2 day nightmare on the 6 foot track in the Blue Mountains, way back in 2007/2008 or thereabouts. It involved under-preparing, chafing (god, so much chafing), poor gear choices (cotton everything is good right?), freezing rain and making an impressive number of stupid decisions in a worryingly short space of time. The result was pure misery and a mild case of hypothermia. Seriously it sucked. Weirdly, though my enthusiasm for hiking did not die that day, I clearly remember saying to my brother the very next day, “We have to go back and do that properly”. Keep in mind, that when I said this, I was still shivering slightly, with the occasional involuntary sob.

And the crazy thing is, I have gone back for more several times over. I mean, when I learned about the A.T. my first thought was “I want to walk that goddamn thing!”

Heart: The A.T. is a long track, but really it’s just lots of 3-5 day hikes strung together. It’ll be awesome!

Brain: So like the 6 foot track?

Heart: Yeah!

Brain: The 6 foot track in which you got hypothermia?

Heart: Yeah!

Brain: The track, which you described as one of the worst experiences of your life?

Heart: Yeah!

Brain: The track in which, when you did it again you got hyperthermia (heat exhaustion)

Heart: Yeah!

Brain: You don’t see the issues I am seeing here, do you

Heart: No!

Brain: …

Heart: Logic has no place here.

Brain: …

Heart: Shut up, we are doing it.

I think it’s a testament to my sheltered existence that I can say that one of the worst days of my life was on a longish walk, but nevertheless it’s true. And maybe it helps answer that question. Hiking over mountains is hard work, honest to goodness hard work. And for the slobs like me who work in offices that kind of thing is missing from our daily lives. For someone like me, who feels like I just sauntered into good fortune most of the time without really exerting myself (though that could just be my imposter syndrome speaking) there is a joy in this kind of work, there is a sense of achievement when you try something hard and you succeed.

Nothing makes you appreciate a view more than when you spent all day climbing to the top of that mountain, views that take your breath away even when you didn’t think you had any breath left to take. That first gulp or two of sweet sugary soft drink after days on the trail. That first bite into a burger after dreaming about it for days slogging through mud and slush. The sweet, sweet kiss of a hot shower washing away the stench of the trail. Or meeting folk you would never have talked to outside of the trail, and making that instant connection with them, because they are out here doing the same thing for pretty much the same reasons as you. Sitting around the fire having meaningful conversation with folks you just met two seconds before. Or simply just staring into the flames. Or just the solitude, walking in the forest alone with your thoughts. Or seeing your campsite after a long day trekking. Or getting to that bit of the track that is mostly flat. Or the sunrise flickering through the trees. Or the sunset blazing the sky red.

Hard work breeds appreciation.

And memories matter. The thing with working an office job, or most jobs, is that the days have the tendency to blend together. Every day is pretty much the same thing as the day before, and you struggle to remember what you did yesterday, let alone last Monday. And I had a real, genuine fear that I would blink and one day I would be in my 60’s with barely a memory to show for it.

For me hiking has become a way of making bookmarks in my brain. Not just of the hike itself, but the weeks leading up to the hike and after. I mean, I walked for a few weeks on the A.T. and I have a ton of stories and anecdotes to pass on to anyone who shows the slightest glimmer of interest. And I’m going to keep hiking, making more bookmarks, meeting more awesome people, seeing more stellar views and adding to the repertoire of stories I will bore my kids with.

So yeah, that’s why I hike.

Now, let me tell you about that 1000 pound bear…