One Cold Night.

This was a stupid decision. The ground is too steep for my tent, water is condensing through my tent's wafer-thin walls, and the hole of my sleeping bag is large enough for several watermelons to fit through. Every gust of wind blows in right onto me, keeping my head and shoulders cold despite being toasty below my nipples. I do all I can by burrowing deeper into my bag and plugging the hole with my jacket and pillow (or as you might see it: a bag of sweaty clothes). Sleep comes intermittently at best as I roll in and out of dreams for a few hours.

No, I'm not on the Appalachian Trail. It is early February and I'm sleeping in my backyard in 30 degree weather. The ground  is steep across the yard and its been foiling my attempts to try out my sleep system. For the most part everything is working fine, but the grade of my yard is impossible. After an hour or so of fruitlessly trying to stop the wind from entering my bag. I finally locate the drawstring to my bag and draw it tight. Despite me, my bag, and sleeping pad endlessly sliding downhill, the rest of the night passes uneventfully. I wake up for good around 7 a.m., observe the frozen condensation on my tarp before sprinting inside for a hot cup of tea. 

It is hard to imagine that in 17 days this will not be the practice of a naive thru-hiker in training, but a day to day reality. The weather will likely be worse, the ground less forgiving, and my body considerably wearier. There is another option on the trail. Every day or so along the trail are 3 sided shelters for hikers to stay. Shelters serve as a sort of communal gathering place for hikers taking breaks or stopping for the night. Most hikers use these throughout their hike, obviating the need for a tent at all. Even so, I'm taking along a tent just in case the shelters are too crowded, too mice-ridden, or just not the place I want to stop for the night. 

One of my hiking poles serves as the only support

The front flaps are rolled up to give a view into the interior. They can be rolled down for complete enclosure.

27 Days

The Appalachian Trail is about 2,180 miles long and covers 14 states from Georgia to Maine. It takes anywhere from 3 to 6 months to hike. Not only are there thousands of bears between Springer Mountain and Katahdin, the end points of the trail, but there are also diarrhea-inducing poisonous waters, Lyme's disease ridden tics, snakes, hundreds of mountains, and acres of poison ivy. In 27 days, Tyler and I will be heading north.

We are incredibly excited to start the trail after months of preparation and planning. We decided to start this blog to share our journey with our friends and families. There is not much here at the moment, but you can expect a few more posts until we start on March 14th. After that we will be updating from the trail as often as we can, as we are expecting to get off the trail to resupply every 3-5 days. 

If you want to know more about the trail go here.

To see what we'll be strapping to our backs for 2,000+ miles go here and here.

To comprehend what would induce us to spend months without TV or internet (sorry reddit and hulu) go here.