Date: 2015-04-07
From: Damascus, VA

To: Damascus, VA
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: overcast clouds

First FULL zero day!!Up until yesterday evening, we had been unsure about our plans. To zero or not to zero? It is psychologically difficult not be putting in any miles yet we know our bodies need a bit of rest too. We woke up this morning and it was raining. Hard. There are even a couple of ducks waddling on the sidewalk slurpping up stranded earthworms. The forecast predicted rain for the whole week with today being the worst. Easy decision, we stay the day. It smells like Spring.In honor of our very first zero ever (and because I have loads of time), I thought I would write about how our experience has evolved during the first month.My first comment would be, if you are planning a through hike, allow yourself an initial two-week transition period as, during this timespan, you can witness an large array of terrains and weather patterns. Drop-out rates are extremely high during these early days (it is not unheard of to have people quit after a few hours of hiking); barring injury or external emergencies, you need to wait out this period the best you can. Re-evaluate pace and gear choices to lighten your pack if necessary. Personnally, I felt a sustained energy rush during the first week or so. While you feel deep sympathy for those struggling, overburdened individuals who look more like Atlas upholding the planet than thru-hiker, they motivate you to push onwards.You reason that you have prepared as best you can and you certainly don't want to be among those who quit. So you hike on through the steep climbs, the rocks, the snow and the ice.This stamina faded as we left the Smokies. Again, I felt huge trepidation when we crossed Fontana Dam; that last spark of nervous energy got me through. Then was the long stretch along the NC/TN border. At this point, we had been travelling with a great albeit quite competitive group of hikers. I felt that we entered a new level: we are with the big kids now. While their speed and know-how is inspiring and does, to an extent, force you to push, I feel more tired and drained than I did in the beginning.I suppose one can say that, after a month, the "honeymoon" phase is over. Unshakable commitment to our quests and a (unilateral) understanding of the Trail are what I need to keep refreshed in my mind. According to AT lore, the act of thru-hiking provokes a quasi-mystical change in hikers - an indescribable, profound transition, as a pupa hatching into a butterfly.I am skeptical. Yes, living in the woods and pushing your body to its physical and mental limits catalyses noticable reactions, though none that I would yet describe as "life changing". Hikers claim to have already experienced beneficial reforms from the Trail. They don't mind being permanently dirty or they disregard the shelter-dwelling mice. I see these changes as adaptations to Trail life, necessary ones as the Trail will never mold itself to your comfort level.I remember talking to Not Yet about this and he said that "the Trail breaks you", an interesting declaration. Yes, my physical and emotional boundaries have been pushed, exceeded even. I have, in the midst of a climb for example, errupted in quasi-maniacal laughter following a seemingly neutral comment from Shrugs; I was so tired. I have been overtaken by rage upon seeing the nth steep hill of the day and I have shed tears as my fingers and toes painfully, slowly thawed out during those freezing mornings. The Trail breaks you, but does it rebuild you? If so, into what? I still maintain that the act of thru-hiking is an act to be completed for its own merits, without any thought or bearing on how it can affect other spheres of one's life. It's a quest within itself. My life is currently on hiatus and while I hope to always cherish these memories, I expect to return to normal life afterwards. That being said, I believe that, on the contrary, quitting the Trail would have a long-standing negative effect. Here, we are in control of our daily lifes. I realize this statement is a bit paradoxal as we, of course, cannot will into being an easy terrain or sunny skies. We can however decide exactly how we hike, when we hike and where we hike to, having nothing to factor in but our own needs and desires. Never have I had such control over my life.Quitting the Trail (again, excluding injury or other extraordinary event, both of which cannot be helped) would be of my own accord, my own fault. I would not be proud of myself.This all may seem egocentrical at its core, at odds with the stories of incredible kindness and generosity that surrounds the AT community. Maybe you need to be happy and self-satisfied before you can open up and reach out to others in a more selfless manner. The AT may enable this although I cannot yet say if this effect is permanent.I am stubborn and highly pessimistic. It has only been a month, the Trail still has time to change me. Shrugs, as it name states, is indifferent to these thoughts. He agrees that, while the community is great, this is a personal, even selfish experience. It's an escape from responsibilities.I agree with his conclusions but I think that he has been very thoughful and caring during this trip (especially during those difficult cold days). I am thankful to be doing this with him and to have in unwaivering support. Thank you, Shrugs.I plan to eventually write about the pros and cons of hiking the AT as a couple but that will be for another time.- Axon