by Jennifer Pharr

When told, pre-A.T., “hiking the trail will change your life,” I thought OF COURSE it will change my life. I will be skinnier, more athletic and perhaps tougher and more savvy. I will gain a greater appreciation for nature not to mention a resume builder, and as an added bonus: I will make friends from all over the U.S. If it weren’t life changing, then why would anyone do it?

I can now say, however, having completed the trail, that while all the above alterations did occur, other more permanent ramifications have proved life altering in ways that I never could have imagined.

Let’s take dating for example. Before the trail, I was perfectly dateable: 21 years old, relatively cute, naïve, fairly easy to get along with and overall not a bad choice for dinner and a movie. Post A.T.? Not so much!

Sure I am still tall, thin, and fairly amiable, but somehow my odds of obtaining a second date have now substantially decreased.

Presently it seems that, during a date, at whatever point the subject of post-graduation and hiking the A.T. come up in conversation, I can immediately notice a subsequent change in my companion’s attitude. No longer assured and self-confident, the usual dialogue progression then flows into a lifelong chronology of every masculine and testosterone filled adventure that my date has ever seen, heard or participated in. Courteously I try to remain relatively interested and alert, but alas…my mind is now elsewhere.

Once mentioning the trail in conversation, I then furtively proceed to assess my date’s hypothetic completion odds. Trying to determine whether he would have what it takes to walk, suffer, sleep, freeze, and go hungry in less than desirable circumstances, I wonder if he would be able to empathize with my now heightened since of awareness and adventure. And if he couldn’t? Then how on God’s green earth are we supposed to have a relationship?

Now I’m not necessarily saying that I can only date thru-hikers, but how am I supposed to judge a guy’s capacity to change and level of commitment if he hasn’t even made it to Katahdin? Am I just supposed to assume that he is willing to press through the rocky times, weather the highs and lows, and pass through the storms of a relationship in hopes for a brighter day without any prior experience? I think I’m at the point, where instead of mere trust and intuition, I’d prefer that the literal physical analogy of dedication take all the needless uncertainties out of a next step.

So while the return rate wasn’t good to begin with, I now have no desire to go on a second date with the one out of five who might have asked, leaving me totally, utterly and completely single.

So dating is a no go, but at least I can focus on my job and career, right?

Well, let me just tell you about that career. Sure I just went through a $100,000 investment called college. But what have I done with it? Find a full time job? Work within my major? Pursue higher education? Nope.

I have opted instead for seasonal and contract work wherever I can get it. Why, pray tell? So that I have the option of taking time off to hike, travel, and spend time outdoors. There is just something in the juxtaposition of living your life outside for months at a time and working all day from a cubicle that don’t mesh very well. I tried. Honestly. I did try! I got a job, I worked in an office, I had a computer, a steady pay-check, and moreover I even liked my job. But just not nearly as much as I liked looking out the window and dreaming up my next big adventure. Yep, it took me about three months of steady employment to realize it wasn’t for me and then jet to Africa to climb the biggest mountain over there. A great adventure, but similarly not something that will win many points in a speed dating session.

Upon my return from Kilimanjaro I finally realized that the corporate world was not for me, so I've taken a temp job that will allow me to save up enough money to take the entire summer off and hike the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). PCT? Am I ever going anywhere with my life?

If I hike the PCT then it means another five months of my life spent not in a job, or in school, or in any kind of position to plan for family and future but, yes, in the woods.

And what happens after I hike the PCT?

Considering that there are three major long-distance trails and that only having completed two of the three may leave a conspicuous void, I guess you can go ahead and allot another five months somewhere in my future for once again forgoing creature comforts and forsaking societal norms to spend time in an even more remote and desolate part of the country doing the CDT (Continental Divide Trail).

Basically it’s a downward spiral and I’m screwed.

My friends are off getting married, getting PhDs, making millions, and making babies. Me? I’m busy working out mileage and comparing gear weight.

So if you’re out there, either currently on the AT, or maybe thinking about it in the near future...be forewarned!

I myself was normal I tell you, normal. After finishing college, I intended to have a career, marriage, and eventually kids. And sure those things still might come, but not before I have climbed my mountains and traversed said trails.

You see, it seems the trail did more for me than I had originally planned. After hiking it seems that I-along with many other hikers-had somehow filled a void that I never knew existed.

The trail didn’t just allow me to lose weight and get in shape, and it was certainly more than just a medium to meet new friends and see new places. It was no longer merely something to simply check off the “to do” list. Instead, it proved to be an eye opening, life altering, hope inspiring experience.

And I suppose that even with my permanent single status, inability to hold a job, lost career ambitions, and unutilized degree, even with the sacrifice of my ignorant bliss and the consciousness of societal complacency, I still wouldn’t trade my AT experience for anything in the world.

Sure it changed me. It changed my thoughts, wants, and desires. It changed my future. But more than changing me, in truth, it unveiled who I truly was.

And that, my friend, makes the next hike a welcomed adventure.

If you are interested in making a small tax-deductible donation to Habitat for Humanity in return for weekly e-mail updates from Jennifer Pharr on the PCT this summer, please write jenpharr@hotmail.com.