The Chiro and Wife Take to the Appalachian Trail...part 1

Does anything feel better than accomplishing a big goal you set for yourself?

I'll be honest, I'm not very brave in setting big goals. I tend to be very "realistic" and "comfortable" in the expectations I give for my own growth. I'm trying to change that. I'm trying to be willing to be uncomfortable, uncertain, and even embrace failure--because I know all of those things are necessary for real growth.

And as I get older and feel my mortality a little more, I guess I also want to experience life a little more fully. The last few years were a little wacky for me health-wise, and I gave myself a lot of grace and time to heal, learn, and recalibrate.

But last fall, I felt the push to push. I told the chiro I wanted to spend a week backpacking on the Appalachian Trail. This was definitely out of my comfort zone, as the most I'd ever backpacked before was one night here and there, and both times with ideal conditions (and pretty well-functioning adrenal glands). I made other goals at the beginning of 2025, but this one was a big focus. I had a lot of nervousness about how my body would handle the stress, along with all the variables of a weeklong backpacking trip that could go wrong. But I started training and prepping. And frequently I would fall asleep at night wondering what it was going to feel like sleeping on the ground night after night while possibly very cold and wet...

And now I'm hear to say, we did it! And the accomplishment feels amazing.

For those interested, here's a little synopsis of the experience. (No real deep lessons, maybe those will come later!)

Day 1 of our AT adventure: We left our house about 7:30 to drive up to North Georgia. We had designated a parking lot about halfway along our hiking route so that we would be able to restock our food and change clothes from the car on day four. We met our shuttle driver there at Gooch Gap and left our car. He drove us back to Amicalola Falls where we began the 8 mile approach Trail. (We skipped the hundreds of steps at the Falls and just jumped on the trail!)

I had only planned on us going about 5 miles that first day because I just didn't want to push too hard right away. But we pushed a little anyway.

We ended up going about 7 1/2 miles and stopped at a shelter that was about a mile and a half from Springer Mountain, where the trail actually begins/ends.

There were some pretty decent climbs and I guess they say the approach trail is a good introduction to the trail in general. The only really tedious part of that day was when we went to get water after setting up camp. We thought it was a little closer and I wore my camp shoes instead of my hiking shoes, which was a mistake given the steep climb down to the river.

We stayed in our tents that night instead of sleeping in the shelter because the weather was nice enough (and there's a common issue with mice in the shelters). We met a lovely couple from Missouri there, Todd and Lisa, and got to know them a little bit.

Had our "tramily" (trail + family) meeting on the hammock that night and enjoyed a beautiful campsite. It was a great first day!

Day 2: As we were getting up it was just starting to sprinkle, then we had continuous light rain for most of the day.  We had packed up camp and were chatting it up in the shelter deciding how much rain protection to break out for the hike.  Our new friends Todd and Lisa went on ahead with ginormous ponchos covering themselves and their packs.  

While we were deciding our plans, the chiro did some random jumping maneuver there in the covered shelter.  I felt the impact in the wooden floor...but then the floor didn't stop moving.  Our friend Robert was standing on the ground and felt it too.  Yep--definitely an earthquake!  Not common to feel in Georgia, but it was unmistakable for both Robert and me (who both coincidentally grew up in San Jose, CA, where earthquakes are not uncommon).  Found out later it came from Tennessee.  That was definitely an exciting start to the day!

We got on our way and then after about a mile and half, hit the top of Springer Mountain, the official southern terminus of the trail (some thru-hikers start it in Maine and finish at Springer, but most start it at Springer).  A couple people approached the summit from the north and I jokingly asked if they had come from Maine.  (This would be impossible since the trail up there around Baxter Park hadn't even opened up for the season).   

Then another hiker was coming from the north side of the summit and he yelled out to ask us where the official plaque was. I jokingly asked him the same question as the other hikers, and his reply was "yep!"  I had to ask again, and he assured me again, that he was finishing his thru-hike that very moment.  "Recon Hikes" had started his hike in 2024 but Hurricane Helene forced him to delay his finish to this year.  It was so cool watching him summit and complete his year and a half journey!  His family had come to finish with him and it was definitely inspiring!  Not something you get to see every day! 

The rest of the day was wet but not terrible, pretty mild terrain.  We stopped for the night at Hawk Mountain shelter and were lucky to snag the final 3 spots for sleeping in the shelter, because it continued to rain for hours.  There were some fun and interesting characters there, and that night I had my first encounter with mice!

Day 3: After a night filled with rain, mice, and snoring strangers (but luckily DRY under a shelter), we headed out and soon found ourselves on this magical mountainside covered with fog.  It felt like we were hiking in the clouds, and I guess we kinda were.   It was beautiful and surreal!  

Rain continued off and on throughout the day as we hiked up Sassafras Mtn (which was killer) and beyond. The chiro was complaining that he felt unbalanced so I let him carry my pack for a little bit up the mountain, you know, just to help him out. ;) I tried to call my mom and wish her a happy mother's day from the top of the mountain but there was still not cell service. :/ 

We made it to the next shelter at Woody Gap and found 2 new friends we'd been leapfrogging with since the day before, Melody and Ian (who we dubbed the "primary kids" because their big ponchos were bright primary colors), along with a solo thru-hiker fresh out of college, Cecile.  She was joined later by another solo hiker fresh from high-school that she had met and hiked some with the day before.  (Brave girls!) 

Cecile was complaining about knee pain so the chiro went to work with none other than a camping spoon on her patella and did what he does best--helped her feel better!

This shelter wasn't quite as packed but we were joined later by some other guys who shared the top with us. We were very grateful to once again have shelter for the overnight rain, which there was a lot of!

The next morning Cecile told us her knee was feeling way better and that she had come up with a trail name for the chiro: Miracle Worker, because of how much better she felt. I thought that was a little dramatic and may have rolled my eyes (out of loving desire for him not to get an inflated ego), but whatever. ;)

Side note: trail names are typically given to hikers on the trail by other hikers. While you can come up with your own, it's more authentic and fun when you let circumstances and random interactions with other hikers dictate what surfaces as a trail name. We weren't out quite long enough to solidify trail names for any of us, though there were definitely some interesting ones suggested. ;)

Day 4: Day 4 was kinda a blur, but my phone tells me we were in Dahlonega.  We did come across some awesome views.  Even though I don't think it rained too hard that day, it had been raining so much the night and days before that it felt like we were basically scrambling across one long, continuous waterfall for a bit of the afternoon because of how much water was coming down the mountain.  

We got to our car that day (still safe and soundly parked) and were able to change clothes and restock our food, plus enjoy some treats we couldn't carry in our packs but I knew we'd appreciate (hello sweet potato chips!).  I may or may not have given myself a sponge bath in the car while changing. We then relocked the car, leaving it in the same place, and continued down the trail.

We had reservations to stay at a hostel on Day 5, but because we'd gone a little further each day than I was planning, we ended up getting there on Day 4, and luckily they were able to accommodate us.  Above the Clouds hostel was a treat to stay at!  (Plus a real bed, kitchen, shower...even a cold plunge for the brave).  They picked us up at the trail and got us back there the next day, and we got to hang out with other hikers for several hours that evening.  Some of them we'd met earlier in the trip and it was fun to share more stories. I never got the name of the Navy Seal I talked to multiple times but we just referred to him as "Texas" since he was from San Antonio. He was a character for sure.

By this time I knew we were on the home stretch and that even if it poured all day the next day, we'd only have one more night of tenting to get through.  

It was also kinda nice that the chiro and I we were able to get the "private room" for the same price as 2 bunks would have been.  This I know--ceiling fans make such a difference for quality of sleep.  And this room had one, so I was a happy camper/hiker/hostel patron!

Day 5: This is the day things somehow caught up with me and my body decided to make sure I was listening to it....

After a great night’s rest and hot breakfast, we got our ride back to the trail and hiked for a couple of hours in the gorgeous forested mountainside.  We enjoyed "Preacher's Rock" with some awesome views. It was a beautiful morning. But then it happened…

We'd been hiking a downhill stretch for a while and the conditions were pretty perfect, not strenuous at all, dry and cool. I'd been chatty and enjoying it all morning and then, in a matter of a few minutes, I withdrew from the conversation, my pace slowed more and more and I found it harder and harder to take the next step. My energy was draining, suddenly and fast, and seemingly out of nowhere.We stopped so I could rest and take some extra meds, and then the rain started again, this time cold.

I've had this feeling a handful of times since dealing with Addisons, and it's no fun. It truly feels like life is draining out of you and you can't do anything to stop it. There's not even energy to describe what's happening to the people around you--you just kinda shut down. With the rain getting heavier and feeling so suddenly miserable, this ended up being a rough couple of hours.The weird thing is that during these episodes, I'm very alert and aware in my mind. I can talk to myself (even if I can't get words out easily) and I know it's not going to last. I prayed for help because I knew I couldn't just sit there, huddled over in the rain in the middle of the wilderness. I also somehow knew it wasn't bad enough that I needed to utilize my emergency injection. I knew my cortisol levels would raise once the meds metabolized.

I eventually mustered enough strength to take a few slow steps. Then I took a few more. And suddenly we were moving again. My good husband carried my pack. We slogged through until we reached our campsite. By then I was, gratefully, feeling much better.

It was a reminder that as good as I sometimes feel, I will always be subject to certain limitations and stress thresholds. And because stress is multi-faceted and such a hard factor to quantify--and is also the main issue related to my condition--I have to listen to my body when it starts giving me signals. When those thresholds get maxed out, everything slows down for a bit.  Or stops altogether.  And that's okay. I was still okay. I still made it.  

I wasn't entirely surprised that this little episodes happened just because my body had been pushing for a few days, but it was still frustrating since it's not super predictable when that tipping point will be crossed. I knew there would be ups and downs on the trip, and this was definitely the biggest dip. If things hadn't started improving soon, I (hope that I) wouldn't have hesitated to use my injection or call it quits. But I had the help I needed, in a few different forms. And I was taken care of.

And then the rain came back just in time to take shelter in the tent for the night...

Day 6:

To say it was a rough night of sleep is an understatement. It stormed almost the entire 5th night. Contrary to the other nights of storms, we were not under a shelter this time, and our campsite was very exposed. It seemed like we were pummeled all night long with torrential rain, and I was praying like crazy that our tent would hold. I could just imagine it ripping wide open and then having no shelter...and dying....

Luckily, our (expensive) tent did it's job and the rain finally let up in the morning, but of course mud caked everything as we tried to pack up camp.

We got back on the trail for our final day of hiking. I'd previously been a little nervous about this day because I knew it included Blood Mountain, and we'd done that once before--so I knew how hard it was. But I didn't realize we were approaching it from the other side, which wasn't nearly so steep!

We summited the top, took tons of pictures, signed the logbook, felt the euphoria of it all, and headed back town. Coming down was actually much harder than going up, especially with all the waterflow down the steeper side of the mountain combined with the rocks and mud.

We finished our planned distance at Neel's Gap. "Bill-the-Pack-Whisperer" (a bit of an A.T. legend) entertained us for a little bit while we ate lunch and waited on our ride outside the Mountain Crossings store. We saw the iconic tree branches where thousands of hikers have abandoned and tied up their shoes. It was a fun place to finish.

And I can't wait to go back.  

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