Photo from my last backpacking trip before the CDT, at Lake Vesuvius in April.

I stumbled across the concept of thru-hiking about three years ago. I kept hearing about the Appalachian Trail and finally googled it one evening, just wanting to know what it was. I stumbled on videos of thru-hikers and found myself unable to click away. I was amazed by what they were doing; it seemed impossible, insane, and so completely logical. Of course they’re walking the entire thing. If you could make it work, why wouldn’t you?

But could I?

I read article after article, watched video after video, asked question after question. How long does it take? Where does the trail pass through? What time of year do you start? When do you finish? How? Alone? With what gear? How much does it cost? What about rattlesnakes? Bears? How do you get food? What about water? What about the weather? Is this something I could do? At that point I didn’t even know the CDT existed. I was an avid hiker, but I had never camped by myself and had never backpacked. When I first learned about the AT, I didn’t have any idea what backpacking even entailed.  What a strange and winding road it’s been that’s led me to here.

I’ve now camped and backpacked both in groups and alone. I’ve tested my gear, set up my tent in the dark in the rain with lightning approaching. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I will make many more, but I hope I’ve gotten a good number of the big ones out of the way.

I start the CDT this week. I am not ready, but I’m in that weird moment before when you realize there is no ready, there is only going. There is no way to bridge the gap between here and ready except to do the thing I will never feel ready for.

What I know is that many of the good things I’ve gained in the past three years have been at least in part because of the trail. Without the thru-hike approaching, I would not have fought nearly as hard to sort out my health issues. It has reminded me over and over how lucky I am to love and be loved by the people I have in my life. It has led me to many close, lifelong friendships, and I haven’t even started yet. I came to the trail hoping that it would be a masterclass in self-sufficiency. Thus far, it has been the exact opposite. In the three years since I started planning this, the biggest lesson I’ve learned is how vital connection is. I’m here to walk to Canada and I cannot wait to get going. I’m also so thankful to have communities that I look forward to coming back to. No matter what happens, I am so grateful to have made it even this far.

To all the people who have loved, encouraged, and believed in me over these past three years, thank you. You are the ones who made it possible.