Miles: 1209.9 | Exhausted but determined, we finally follow through on early starts and big miles, hiking separately to beat the heat and make real progress. A dying phone forces me to confront my dependence on Guthook and social media, pushing me to slow down mentally even as I speed up physically. Reaching 1,200 miles alone feels grounding and earned, and a reunion with the Woo Crew caps off a long, satisfying day before a powerful overnight storm rolls in.
We had done more than 17 miles a day for more than a few days. We'd made major progress, coming up on 1,200 miles! I was cooked. Exhausted. Dead. My legs didn't want to move when I woke up. I was stiff. My Achilles were tight because my calves were tight because my hamstrings were tight because I had been hiking, of course. The stiff, sore, tightness never really goes away on a thru-hike but I was truly exhausted this morning and the pain felt worse than usual. I got up anyway and early. Our 5am wakeup call was barely after sunrise.
Miles and I had been talking (pretty much since we started hiking together back in Marion, VA (over 600 miles ago)) about being more productive, efficient, and crushing more miles. We were always saying, "If we just get up early we can do more miles and get more daylight. We could even avoid the heat!" But we rarely, if ever, followed through. It was all talk and no game for a while. We had talked the night before about getting up early and crushing it. We were going to hike separately this day at our own paces and go hard. The heat had been killing us and we were ready to beat it for once.
I immediately deflated my sleeping pad when I woke up so that I couldn't go back to sleep. I ate two packages of Belvita bites, chugged a liter of water, and got ready for my day. We were up and out in the cool, early morning air. I walked with Miles for the first part of the day. At this time, we were still sharing a water bottle for filtering because mine broke back in Shenandoah and I hadn't replaced it properly in Duncannon.
We moved quickly through the humid morning with clear sun shining overhead. As we walked we chatted, I guess kind of loudly. I truly didn't even think about it. We passed some people still at camp and quieted down. As we passed I commented, "Do you think they're taking a zero in the woods?" Miles laughed and pointed out that it was only 7am. We'd already been walking for two hours but they were just getting up.
It felt good to be so productive. At a time when our day usually hadn't even come close to starting, we had already walked four miles and we still hadn't taken our first break. Even though I was exhausted, getting up early was a shock to my system and I had some kind of new energy. Miles and I split up after our first break. He went ahead with the water bottle and I carried two liters myself to make sure I could make it to the next water source. We agreed he would hide the water bottle by the next water source.
I listened to music at first but it felt like nothing could fit my mood. I was positive and motivated but also dead tired and very hot. Eventually, I realized my battery was dying and that I couldn't listen to music or podcasts or else I would risk not getting to take a photo at the 1,200 mile marker! It worried me that I wouldn't be able to look at Guthook (my guidebook app) and I lamented this to Miles that morning. My external battery that I used to charge my phone was already dead and I had no way to recharge it. Miles laughed and said he'd see me at camp I could live without my phone for a day.
At that point I had only gone one day without looking at my phone and I genuinely didn't realize how addicted to my phone I was until I realized I couldn't use it. I was consumed by social media and listening to some kind of audio content during at least half of my time alone. But most importantly I was addicted to checking Guthook.
I always wanted to know where I was, what was ahead, how much further I had left to go to get to my goal, what the elevation profile was, where the next water was. It was ridiculous. I anxiously checked it at least fifteen times a day. It was unhealthy and it was making my hike harder because I was obsessing about how many miles I'd done and the climbs that were coming up. It was truly ridiculous and it wasn't helping me.
I'd definitely gotten better about social media out here. I didn't scroll as much anymore, I mostly just checked up on where my friends were on trail that I wanted to see. I posted only once every other day mostly. I unfriended and unfollowed a lot of negative people and a lot of filler content or advertising that I didn't need to be following.
I'd filtered out a lot of bullshit and time wasting that I had been doing on the internet. But I was still addicted to checking my notifications, seeing how many likes I had, getting followers, and comments. I guess until this day I didn't realize how bad it truly was, though.
I went through the day only using my phone to take pictures. It was surprisingly hard to meter my use. I was disappointed in myself and how much I was checking these things that didn't really matter. Here's a couple photos.
I made it to the water source that Miles left the bottle at. I sat and filtered my water. Instead of pulling out my phone to look at Guthook or check social media or read on my Kindle app I focused on my breathing. I looked around me and took in my surroundings. I tried to pay attention to all of the natural sounds around me: warblers trilling, thrushes talking, water trickling in the stream, the light breeze cutting through the humid heat.
The sweat rolled down my face even just sitting still. I felt calm and mostly at peace but I also felt this stupid tug to check my notifications.
I got up and kept walking. I made it to 1,200 miles by myself and snapped one last picture as my phone died. The bugs were bad and I dug out my bug net to keep the gnats out of my eyes. I trudged through the humid heat at the end of my long day. By 3pm I had made it 20 miles and walked the half mile side trail to the shelter I had agreed to meet Miles at. He was there, lounging on his sleeping pad and eating.
We shared about our days and he pointed out, "See? You made it the whole day without your phone. It wasn't that hard, was it?" On one hand he was right. I had made it and it wasn't that hard, but it had consumed my thoughts for most of the day and not looking at the guide kind of made me anxious. It was this day that I resolved I would need to work on this addiction.
I made myself a Goober sandwich and ate it while we sat there. Krafty and Supersize (of the Woo Crew) came up to the shelter while we were eating. We hadn't seen them in almost a month! Not since Shenandoah. We had, apparently, caught up to them! It felt good knowing that we'd worked hard enough to catch up to a crew that was usually faster than us. Especially after taking a few neros in Shenandoah and early Pennsylvania.
They were good company, positive people, and I was so happy to see them again. They told us all about their great day, how they went swimming and how they had walked low miles that day. They both made themselves food and we all sat around and talked about all we had missed from each other in the past month.
Soon after, the rest of the Woo Crew (Blackbird, TNT, and Biscuits) showed up. They all got water at the shelter and decided to move on to a stealth site. I was satisfied with my miles. I was cooked and I didn't want to go any further. Me and Miles decided to camp at this shelter that night. We went and set up our tents in the mid-afternoon sun. Miles let me use one charge from his battery to limp my phone to Port Clinton. We went to bed early.
In the middle of the night I was awoken by one of the loudest rain storms we had experienced yet. It poured and I eventually fell asleep to the sound of rain.