The Journey of a Lifetime

By Hillary Groover

Growing up in the northern part of Cherokee County, I was fortunate to always be a short car ride away from the North Georgia Mountains. Every fall, my Pop and I would take a long scenic drive through Blairsville to see the leaves change and visit a few of our favorite spots. One place we always stopped was Mountain Crossing, a small outfitter next to Blood Mountain. On a clear day, you can see the city of Atlanta from a wide stone porch right next to the shop. Standing there each year, I always noticed the footpath that cascaded down the hill next to me, but I never could have imagined what that trail would mean to me one day.

In 2016, a young woman named Kimber Maxwell was hired at the restaurant I managed in Milton, Georgia. One day, I overheard some of my staff talking about how Kimber had hiked the entire Appalachian Trail by herself the previous year. I was impressed to say the least and immediately inquired about Kimbers trail travels the next time I saw her, and the next time, and the next time. I interrogated her for weeks, and every time she gave me an answer, it inspired me to ask another question. My curiosity for what was beyond where the path crossed the Outfitter at Blood Mountain grew stronger and stronger, but I still thought to myself, I could never do something like that.

Then, a few weeks after my initial interrogation, Kimber told me that before graduating from college and hiking the Appalachian Trail, she had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer at the age of nineteen. After beating the cancer and graduating college, she chose to hike the Trail because it signified to her that she could do the impossible and overcome anything. Kimbers inspiring story encouraged me to believe that I, too, could do anything I wanted, even the impossible.

On May 21, 2017, after a year of planning, researching, and saving funds, I took my first of what would be over five million steps on the Appalachian Trail. The Trail is a 2,189.8-mile footpath that starts at Springer Mountain in Georgia and ends at Mount Katahdin in Maine. Nearly two million people set foot on the Trail every year, but only a couple thousand register to hike it in its entirety. These hikers are known as thru-hikers, and only one in five of them will successfully finish the Trail. I am proud to be one of the minority who completed the entire journey.

The first three weeks of my five-month hike were brutal. I was physically fit and had done some training hikes, but nothing can prepare you for what your body goes through when you start hiking double digit mileage each day. It rained the entire first week I was on the Trail, and I was completely unprepared for the mental and emotional anguish wet weather brings to a hikers psyche. I also had never slept outside in a tent before starting my hike, so I was quite nave when it came to full-time outdoor living. I learned very quickly from a lot of mistakes. I was wet, sore, blistered, lonely, and completely unsure of myself, but every day I survived out there, a little bit of that trepidation slipped away and was replaced with resiliency.

The Trail is not just a trail. Ask anyone whose life has been touched by it in some way, and they will surely tell you the same. It is a playground, a sanctuary, a place of magic and wonder. Hiking the Trail is more than just an adventure of a lifetime. It is an opportunity to transcend, a place to learn, and a pathway to completely change your understanding of yourself and the world around you.

During my travels, I saw the sunset from Mount Washington in New Hampshire. I got to hear the eerie whistling winds of Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. I swam in waterfalls of the Housatonic, watched trains go by as I paced across the Hudson, and ferried across the Kennebec. I picked and ate wild blueberries on the ridgelines of New York and had the black bears of New Jersey dart in front of my path. I sat on the cliffs of the Shenandoah and gazed at peregrine falcons soaring across the valley for entire afternoons, and I experienced the most incredible sunrise I have ever seen from a shelter in the Great Smokey Mountains. These are just a few of the many wondrous moments that are now a part of my story.

More extraordinary than the scenery of the Trail were the people. I met all kinds of hikers and locals of the Appalachia who became my friends and family while I was out there. I heard hundreds of amazing life stories, and I received more acts of random kindness than I can count. Whether it was a free ride, or meal, or a place to sleep inside for a night, it was given to me in the spirit of genuine altruism, expecting nothing in return except the sheer joy of knowing they contributed to helping me complete the Trail. I could not have done it without them.

I learned a lot from my long walk in the woods, about myself and about others, but if I had to choose one big take away to share with you, it would be this: If you treasure this brief and precious life of yours enough to fully dedicate yourself to accomplishing goals you never thought you could reach, you will be amazed before you are half way through. You will inspire others, and that inspiration is one of the most valuable gifts you can give to another human being. Your impact on this world, while perhaps not vast, will be deep and substantial. So, take a moment this season to get outside, take a chance, and reach for the impossible. Then, share your story with others.

In addition to completing the trail, I wanted to use my time out there to advocate and raise money for the Center for Young Adult Addiction and Recovery at Kennesaw State University. I am a person in long term recovery from drug and alcohol addiction, and this program provided a support system to me while I pursued my undergraduate degree. I created a blog during my travels, in which I wrote about the parallels between my journey on the trail and my journey through recovery. I was able to raise over $5,000 during my hike, and giving back to a program from which I had received so much was beyond rewarding. It was also a great motivator to keep me going when the going got tough.

For more information about my hike or how to donate to the KSU Collegiate Recovery Program, please view my blog at http://hgroover88.wixsite.com/hillshike