I am terrified of this hike. Not the kind of overwhelming terror you get when you’re home alone and you’re convinced someone is actively trying to break into your house– it’s more of the subtle looming terror of taking your SATs or the jittery feeling you have all day before a first date or job interview (it’s pretty much the same thing, right?). I have some reasonable fears – ticks, failure, malnutrition- and I have some not-so-reasonable fears – moose attacks and getting miserably and hopelessly lost and never finding my way back, among others.

    I’m naturally a bit of a nervous person- I have to carefully consider each and every action I take, then spend way too much time wondering if it was the right decision. I know that this hike is going to be scary sometimes and I’m going to find myself wanting to quit—but I am determined and stubborn. Very very stubborn. I know this isn’t going to be easy, or fun 100% of the time- I’m hoping for fun times about 25% of the duration. I know it’s going to be hard and I’m going to miss home and real food. I’ll become sick of ramen and dehydrated chili. I’m going to want to give up, because I’ll be scared, tired and damp most of the time.

    How am I going to get rid of these fears? I’m realistic enough to realize that I probably won’t... but that doesn’t mean I can’t deal with them. I’ve done my research. I feel as prepared, mentally, as I think I can get. My best way of dealing with anything- decision making, stressful situations and grocery shopping, to name a few- is list making. I have tons of small notebooks, filled with page after page of lists. Shopping lists, to do lists, pros and cons lists… if you can think of a reason to make a list, I’ve probably made it. At least once a day you can find me writing a to do list. If you look in the notes app on my phone you’ll see dozens of lists with the satisfying check mark next to each item.

    It might be a little obsessive, but lists are my way of dealing with my fears, which often stem from stress. They help ease my nerves and keep me calm when I feel like I’m in over my head. My lists are the best way for me to see how I’m doing and what I need to do to stay on track. In short, lists keep me sane… as sane as a person who wants to hike 2,000+ miles can be. Here’s a breakdown of my most important lists/biggest stress causers- a list of lists, if you will.

My motivation list

This is my most important list (mentally, at least). It’s the one that will be typed, laminated and put into the side pocket of my pack. I’ll reference it at least once a day, in order to remind myself why I’m doing what I’m doing. The idea for this came from Appalachian Trials (Great book, I recommend this to anyone who plans to do any sort of backpacking. Sullivan and I both received a copy from my father and loved reading it!). I’m going to leave my reasons out, simply because I want to keep it personal, between myself and those close to me. I have lots of reasons for doing this hike- some personal and some as simple and cliché as "why not?". It doesn't really matter what my motivations are, as long as it gets done and I have a decently good time doing it. This is an example of one of many (hundreds? thousands? too many) lists I've made. Lists, like I said are essential for my well being and sanity- even while buying groceries.

Gear List

While I prepare for my hike, I have a running list of gear that I need, with two columns- a place to check off that I have that item and a column where I list the exact weight of the item I have. This helps me stay on track of my pack weight goals. I want my base weight to be under 15 pounds, and I’m currently at 7.75 pounds, without clothing, first aid and technology, which I expect to weigh in at about 6 pounds. Base weight is everything in your pack- including the pack- that isn’t considered a “consumable”. Consumables are food, water and fuel, which I'll dive into in my next list. My gear list is more of a list of smaller lists- a clothing list, a first aid list (below), a food list, a map and book list... you get the point. One of my fears is bringing too much gear, and another fear is bringing too little. Right now my "base gear" is as follows: Osprey Aura 65l pack, Marmot Trestles 15 bag, Therma-rest Z-Lite pad, MSR Reactor 1L stove, Stoic Arx 2 tent, REI Traverse trekking poles, Keen Targhee Mid boots, Z1 Chacos, wool base layers, 2 sets of athletic shorts and t shirts, 2 fleece pull overs, 4 pairs of merino socks, wool hat, fleece glove, baseball cap, first aid kit, phone, gopro. Obviously, there's much more, including all the consumables and various small items that I probably won't realize I need until I'm already miles into the trail. But that will have to wait until then.

My food list

Food stresses me out- probably more than it should, considering it will be my absolute favorite thing once I start walking. But trying to plan out my daily calorie intake- while eating foods that I enjoy, that won’t destroy my insides,  is a stressful task. Sullivan and I are both planning to almost double our normal caloric intake while on the trail. I’ve been planning different meals that I think we will both enjoy and look forward to eating. I want hot meals. I don’t want tortillas and peanut butter every day. I want something I can dump into my stove pot, add water to and be able to enjoy after just a few minutes of hydration. I’m mainly focusing on dinners. I know after a long day of hiking, there will be nothing better than a hot, homemade meal.  Breakfasts and lunches will be simpler- PROBARS, oatmeal, poptarts, meal bars-  basic, easy to eat, high calorie foods. I've got a lot of work left to do with dehydrating meals and figuring out what to eat and when, as well as packing our mail drops, but the general idea is there, and the lists have been made.

I'm a climber.  Almost every day, rain or shine, I climb.  Usually, because of the combination of weather, partners' availability, and daylight, my climbing is limited to indoors.  Call me a gym rat; that's OK by me.  Climbing is one of the most important facets of my life--it keeps me physically fit, mentally balanced, and socially engaged.  I've also made a ton of progress (over the last year, especially) refining my technique and getting much physically stronger.  It has taken a tremendous amount of discipline and self control to get to where I am--and it all might be lost in the next 5 months.

You don't wake up one day and start thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail.  You may wake up one day and suddenly want to start this enormous trek, but it's an endeavor that takes major coordination with the rest of life's happenings.  Whether at work, hitting the gym, or merely doing errands, the idea of the Trail is an always-lingering, residual thought that trails behind every action, every conversation.

At least, this is the case for me.

I know that once on the AT, it's an all-consuming task.  By that, I mean, it is a constant, and the rest of life happens around it.  Armed with this knowledge, my daily activities in the months leading up to the hike are all acted out through a trail lens.  Every time I sit in a chair, at a table, and have a meal, I'm envisioning what that moment might be like in the context of the trail: no table, no chair, and "meal" would be a very lose term to describe what I'm consuming.

Committing to the Trail is tantamount to committing to change--and change is scary.  As the saying goes, "the only constant in life is change."  As unavoidably true as this statement is, it's a bit underdeveloped.  What should follow is, "but it isn't always out of your control."

Callie and I don't have to attempt the Appalachian Trail.  Our day-to-day lives would still see many changes.  They would occur gradually and be more nuanced, like striking up a conversation with a stranger or taking a new route home on our daily commutes.  These small changes are plenty exciting in their own ways and help to keep life a bit more interesting; they reflect small adjustments within your lifestyle.

The Appalachian Trail, on the other hand, involves stepping back and reflecting on your life as a whole. Relationships will change, especially the immediate ones. Every routine to which you've become accustomed will be undone and replaced; the trail reflects an entire lifestyle change.

Our "needs" will change.  I've considered climbing a need in the same way one might consider yoga or other regimented fitness a need.  I've achieved many short-term goals and have had my eyes set on some long-term achievements.  I will make every concerted effort to maintain my climbing physic on the trail.  I'll find climbable trees, scale them, then do pull-ups 'til exhaustion on limbs.  I'll bring a tension ball and squeeze it while walking to keep my hand strength up.

In reality, though, my long-term goals will have to be pushed a bit further down the road, and I'll have a lot of climbing catch-up to do when the trail is over and real life resumes.  Climbing as I know it will be lost, yes, but that's no reason not to embark on another journey.  The trail is risky. It's different. It's new.  And, sometimes, it will suck and I'm going to long for missed comforts and routine.

However, in the same way I will be desperately trying to maintain my climbing strength on the trail in the face of potential failure, we sometimes have to go out on a limb in life and embark on adventures that may lead to disappointment.  During these challenges, we have to remember that change is scary, but not out of our control; that rewards for taking risks far outweigh their potential consequences; and that we chose to be here, and that choice comes with the peace of mind that we are here on purpose and that everything will be fine.

Any new adventure, whether setting off for college, looking for a new career, or simply developing a new hobby, is tremendously more difficult without support from others.  Thru hiking, especially, is a team effort.

Callie and I are obviously a team, but our hiking clan will extend beyond our immediate geographical location on the trail.  We have a strong network of support--family, friends, organizations--without whom our Appalachian journey would still be a dialogue in the works.  It's impossible to imagine tackling this momentous challenge without a strong network rallying behind us.

In particular, we'd like to extend PROBAR® a sincere thank you.  Having enough food to survive walking for 5 months is a major logistical and financial challenge faced by thru-hikers.  PROBAR® is substantially relieving that burden for our journey, as they've gone above-and-beyond to be with us every step of the way (pun absolutely intended).  They have promised us enough food to have at least one item per day per person for the entire trail. That's around 300 whole ingredient, non-GMO, organic food bars.  As an out-of-pocket expense, this would have been almost impossible. We might have been forced to settle with less-than-ideal food supplements, yet now we've got a small fortune (relative to a thru-hiker's wealth, especially) in the food we want.

Call me a broken record, but I can't stress enough how important food is on the Trail.  With PROBAR®'s help, we can rest easy that we'll be comforted with healthy products that are both satisfying and nutritious.  The blend of fruit purees, date paste, oats, and cashews in the Fuel® bar will provide us with the right balance of low glycemic carbohydrates and protein for sustained energy.  In the midst of walking, when hunger inevitably hits, we'll have the fiber-rich and nutrient-dense Meal® bars to help satisfy our insatiable appetites.  When lethargy sets in, Bolt® energy chews will deliver complex carbs, B vitamins, and electrolytes to help restore balance in our bodies.  And in those moments of reflection, where we contimplate the craziness we just put our bodies through, we'll have Base® bars' cocktail of protein and nutrient-rich chia and flax seeds to help recover our worn muscles and prepare us to resume our journey.

Nothing about the Appalachian Trail will be easy--and it isn't supposed to be.  However, it is a challenge that can be made more possible and more accessible with the help from others.  Callie and I are lucky in this regard, because we not only have a strong network of friends and family rooting for us, but we also have new relationships developing around our journey. These partnerships, especially with PROBAR®, are crucial in getting us one step closer to Mt. Katahdin.