How long does hiking the appalachian trail take

Hikers may see snakes occasionally, but most often the non-venomous variety. The Trail is very well-marked in most places, but not all. In federally designated wilderness areas, signage and marking is significantly less prominent.

After a storm or other situations, the Trail may be hard or impossible to find. In an emergency, a map and compass may be your most reliable source of information on how to get off the Trail to find help, locate an alternate route, or describe your location and access points to potential rescuers. Cell phones and navigation apps can both can be extremely valuable but are dependent on battery life; cell service is not available in many locations on the A.

Satellite messengers and personal locator beacons can fill the gap in emergencies when cell service is not available those with two-way communication capability are most useful to rescuers. Hiking the entire A. It requires great physical and mental stamina and determination. The terrain is mountainous for its entire length, with an elevation gain and loss equivalent to hiking Mt.

Everest from sea level and back 16 times. The treadway in many places is rocky or filled with roots or mud. Maine, and sometimes other states, requires fording of streams that can be hazardous after heavy rains. Sections that could be described as flat or smooth seldom last long.

Those who are physically fit may have an edge, especially in the beginning, but ultimately completing the A. The A. Walking the entire A. Thru-hiking enables you to immerse yourself deeply in the natural world and view some of the most beautiful, wild and pastoral landscapes in the United States.

Thru-hiking will also give you the opportunity to form friendships with people of all ages, from all walks of life, and from around the world. A detailed day-by-day itinerary is not necessary for a successful thru-hike. In fact, it can set you up for a lot of discouragement and frustration.

There are many things out of your control that can alter your plans on a thru-hike, such as weather or injury. Sometimes you may find an opportunity for a once-in-a-lifetime experience that sets you back. An outline of when you expect to reach specific milestones will be helpful to friends and family back home.

It can help keep you on track, too. Be mindful that family members will worry if you do not check in on schedule. Make sure they know you cannot entirely predict your schedule and that cell phone reception is spotty.

Also inform them that you may keep your phone turned off much of the time to save your batteries and protect your phone from inclement weather. Northbound thru-hikers are advised to start out hiking only eight miles a day the first week, and very gradually increase mileage over the next several weeks. In the extremely rugged terrain of New Hampshire and Maine, northbound hikers can expect their mileage to drop as much as 30 per cent, even though considerably more effort is required.

One in four thru-hikers report completions to ATC. The most common reasons for a hiker leaving the Trail sooner than planned is due to an injury, running out of money, family matters at home, or finding the experience was not what was anticipated. The smartest thing you can do is to take a practice hike that includes at least two nights on terrain that approximates the part of the Trail you plan to start on.

This will help you evaluate gear, physical conditioning, and mental readiness. Disciplined, frugal hikers willing to forego motels, restaurants, and other amenities can get away with less; those who like to stay in motels and eat at restaurants when they have the opportunity can easily spend much more.

Lightweight gear is usually more expensive, but many hikers ending up purchasing smaller packs and lighter gear along the Trail, replacing their initial purchases of heavier gear.

Doing extensive research ahead of time can pay off. Aside from trail food, most of your money will be spent in town. Few thru-hikers can resist the temptation of restaurant food, motel beds, and hot showers after days of deprivation. You will also need money for supplies, laundry, postage, equipment repair, and equipment replacement. The more days you spend in town, the more money you will spend. Be sure you have money for a possible emergency trip back home.

Our arms felt weak. Almost an hour later, we emerged blue-lipped from the water, clutching ourselves and shivering electrically, the way year-olds do after a swim class. When I polled my hiker friends to ask about how the trail changed their bodies, nearly everyone reported some kind of injury or ailment: sore knees, rashes, abrasions, shin splints, broken bones, fractured joints.

Nimblewill Nomad, a legendary old thru-hiker who has been hiking more or less continuously since , has broken four ribs, his shinbone, and his ankle. He has even been struck by lightning. Naturally, most hiking injuries center around the feet , which bear the brunt of the impact. Blisters bubble up. Toenails blacken and fall off. Joints swell. During the course of my hike, my feet grew a half shoe size.

In prolonged wet conditions, like the ones we experienced in — waterproof boots, as every thru-hiker learns, being a myth — the skin can also "macerate"; it grows pale and soft, then cracks or sloughs off, and can even become gangrenous.

Though it is rarely acknowledged as such, the experience of pain is one of the most memorable aspects of hiking the trail. Pain is horrible, there is no question; that is why we spend our whole lives avoiding it. But the shadow of pain grows more menacing in its absence, and by shrinking away from it, we radically restrict the scope of our experience.

A successful thru-hike demands you to get to know pain intimately, on a daily basis, and then to push through it. The intricate machinery of my feet — the tarsals and phalanges, the cuboid and cuneiform bones, the ligaments and tendons and muscles and arteries and veins — ached for a month afterward.

In the mornings, I would rise from my bed and hobble to the bathroom with cringing, nonagenarian steps. Overnight, I had gone from being a purebred walker to someone who could barely walk.

It takes your body a few days to realize that you have stopped hiking for good. The grace period seems to last about three or four days; hikers who take breaks longer than that told me that they began to feel more tired and sore, rather than more rested.

However, other changes to my body were perceptible immediately. I was no longer moving toward Katahdin, which for five months had been my north pole, my grail, my Oz — suddenly, I was moving away from it. Famished, we drove to a nearby diner and bought ourselves a lunch of chicken parm sandwiches and tallboys of beer.

The food was delicious, but already I could feel my wolfish enjoyment dissipating. It was just plain old food — equal parts pleasure and guilt. Back in New York, I began attending graduate school and working part-time at a distillery.

Surprisingly quickly, I fell back into the rhythms of city life; I was so busy, I did not have much time to linger over the severity of the transition. Unlike most former thru-hikers, I did not feel any pangs of deep nostalgia for life on the trail.

A few even return year after year, the trail having become the center of gravity around which their lives revolve. I did not feel any burning desire to go back, but I would catch myself, late at night, looking over the logistics of another long trail, the Continental Divide Trail, which is said to be even harder, wilder, and lonelier than the AT.

Over a matter of months, I gradually regressed into something resembling my old self. First, I shaved my scraggly beard, which had begun to draw nervous stares from strangers; then, a few weeks later, I cut my hair. The weight I had shed slowly filled back in, layer by later, as if I were being dipped in paraffin. The sense of calm and confidence I had felt on the trail was replaced by ambient anxiety.

My thinking was staticky; my attention, hard to fix. I returned to spending most of my day in the realm of the mind, stopping off to visit the realm of the body only on certain occasions — while exercising, or hooking up, or during those mirror-bound bouts of self-scrutiny in the moments preceding a shower. Inspirational backpacking memoirs often paint a vivid picture of the "transformative" effects of a long-distance hike. After a while, even the pain in my feet subsided, and with it, the last bodily vestige of my time on the Appalachian Trail.

Well, not quite. When I had first shaved my beard, I had swept up the cuttings and saved them to use as a gross prank: I intended to mail the bag to a friend who had reasonably found the beard disgusting back when it was attached to my face. But then I forgot to send it.

The route through Maine involves extensive climbing and scrambling over steep, rocky, root-covered and muddy terrain. A heavy pack is required due to the distance between resupply points.

Bear canisters are the food storage method that provides the most flexibility and surety for camping anywhere along the A. Whether you're pitching a tent in a designated campsite or you're dispersed camping, minimize your impacts and know the camping regulations on the A.

There are more than backcountry shelters located along the Trail for backpackers on a first-served basis. No fees or permits are required for day-hiking the A. The most predictable mistake thru-hikers make when they start is carrying too much stuff. Put as much effort into determining what you don't need as what you do.

There's no need to carry more than 3 to 6 days of food on most parts of the A. Thru-hikers have techniques for resupplying in towns along the way.

Trail magic has charmed A. Trail magic just happens! Section hikers and thru-hikers who complete the entire A. Those who submit their applications will be added to our roster of 2,milers and will receive a certificate of recognition, an A.

Journeys magazine. Click below to view our 2,miler recognition policy and submit your application today. Learn More. While the Appalachian Trail is a relatively safe place to visit, that does not mean that there are not potential dangers while you are hiking or camping. If you see something, say something — this will help us keep the A.

Safety on the A. Wide-open views, crisp air and solitude make for a cool hike, but when winter hiking, being prepared is key. The adventure of a lifetime Thru-Hiking.