[Note: I began writing a post about my experiences on the AT in July, but it became too big for just one entry. This is part one; part two will follow soon.]

It has been several weeks since my first section hike on the Appalachian Trail. Hiking the AT, even just a tiny bit of it, was a fantastic experience. It was a solo hike, about 48 hours long, and I will readily admit that on this journey I learned quite a bit--not only about hiking but also about myself.

I had been wanting to hike part of the AT for a couple of years, but I knew it would take some preparation. I read, I googled, I talked to people with experience hiking the trail, and I otherwise did my due diligence. One phrase that stood out to me in a small way when I was sitting at home in front of my computer became more & more real the deeper into the mountains I walked. That simple phrase was "it's your hike."

This may seem obvious, but the truth is that one of my personal struggles is with comparing myself to other people. I am competitive by nature and I tend to measure my worth with a metaphysical yardstick based on the accomplishments of others. As I walked the trail, I sometimes found myself slipping into this familiar pattern. If someone passed me, I would judge myself for not moving fast enough. If someone's camp was set up, I would think they were better than me for whatever reason: they had better gear, theirs was a better location, they had a more efficient method of hanging their food up in the trees and away from the bears, whatever. Since this was my first AT hike, I would sometimes catch myself thinking "I'm not doing this right."

And that's when I would go back to the simple advice of hikers before me: it's your hike. This was my day. I was alone in a beautiful wilderness with only a few pounds of gear to sustain me. I was drinking cold, clear water from mountain springs. I was living a dream I had had for years. It was time to let go of judgment & just hike.

It was my hike. So that's what they meant!

When I was able to let go of judging myself & judging others, I was able to move forward and face the challenges of the mountains rather than the challenges of being "good enough" to even be there. "It's your hike" became my mantra. It became my pep talk. I would tell myself to just keep moving forward when I needed to make progress, to rest when I was tired, eat when I was hungry, and stop for a few moments to have my breath taken away by the view.

I gave myself permission to let my hike be own. I walked forward for hours at a time. I climbed thousands of feet and stood on the tops of mountains I had been staring up at earlier in the day, marveling at their heights. I gathered water from falls streaming down from far above me and encountered animals in their natural habitats. I pitched my tent so near the sky that I awoke inside the clouds. I breathed fresh mountain air and felt alive.

I had hoped to last four days, but after only two, I found that I had gone about as far as I was able to go. I had made 25 miles in just under 48 hours, but my body was starting to rebel. So of course, the old feelings of guilt and failure began to creep in, and I wondered what the hell I had been thinking when I decided to climb mountains alone for a vacation. I felt that calling it quits now would ruin my hike somehow. And then the same pep talk that had helped me move forward helped me to understand that quitting was ok. It was my hike. It was a hike I could be proud of, and it was a hike that needed to end. I made a call to the friend who was planning to pick me up on Friday & arranged to get off the trail early.

One of my favorite quotes, though I rarely actually live up to it, has always been Teddy Roosevelt's "Comparison is the thief of joy." What I learned on the AT is that though this is certainly true, it's difficult to practice on a daily basis. But when you distill it to its essence, it becomes much more achievable. "Comparison is the thief of joy" really means "it's your life" or "it's your art" or, for me, "it's your hike."

This is not vanity. This is not selfishness. This is not the popular image of Old Blue Eyes defiantly belting out "My Way." It is simply a realization that my life is my life and I don't have to be as good as (or as rich as, or as thin as) anyone else to be happy. I don't need to meet some societally-imposed standard in order to be a worthwhile human being. All I have to do is keep walking forward, rest when I am tired, eat when I am hungry, and stop as often as I like to enjoy the beauty of the world.

It's my hike, after all.

Several years ago, my wife started moving us toward a more eco-friendly way of life. We started small. To tell the truth, we are still only crunchy in a small way, but we are progressing. One of the ways she decided to put us on the path to a better planet was through the use of Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap.


I was... resistant.


I was resistant because the soap was unfamiliar & I wasn't crazy about the way of smelled. I also insisted on bars rather than the traditional liquid. At the time she began buying the soap, I did not bother to read the 2,000 word religious & political diatribe on the bottle. That would probably have made me even more resistant.


Well, time went on and she kept buying the soap. I used it sometimes, but only if it was in bar form. And now the story takes a bit of a turn away from soap. But we will get back there, I promise.


In early January of 2013 I began planning an anniversary trip for my wife & me. A friend recommended an eco-friendly hideaway near the GA coast called The Hostel in the Forest. It seemed a little out there to me, but I thought we could give it a try.


I did some research on the place & learned that the toilets were composting, no nonbiodegradable trash could be produced by guests or anyone else, and the showers were outdoors. Guests would be expected to pitch in and work while they were there.


It didn't seem like a romantic getaway, so I went ahead & spoiled the surprise by asking my wife about it. She was all in, so on our anniversary weekend we shipped the child away to grandparent camp and headed to the forest.


The place was amazing. It was full of art and love and music and literature. It was a great experience. And on the morning of the second day, after a night in one of the little houses, we headed to the outdoor shower.


Outdoor is a considerable understatement.


These showers weren't merely outside. They were completely open to the forest. They had walls on two sides and trees on the other, and that's if you were lucky. Some showers were completely open. The shower heads were mounted on tree trunks, and the used water trickled down the body of the person showering and directly onto the forest floor.


Since the forest would be collecting the cast off water, the soap had to be forest-friendly... I can sense you getting ahead of me now.


Sure enough, on a little shelf just to the right of the tree trunk, there was a bottle of good old Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap. The liquid kind.


Being the good sport I am and figuring it couldn't really hurt anything, I stripped down in the middle of the forest and showered under the water from a fixture protruding from a live pine tree, cleansing myself with lavender scented Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap. I now no longer use any other product.


Showering in the forest was transformative and amazing. I was able to breathe the air directly from the trees and drink in their beauty. It was a baptism.


I don't use Dr. Bronner's because it is some sort of amazing miracle product (maybe it is; it doesn't even matter to me). I use it because my brain formed an amazing pattern that cold March morning.


As I stood there in the warm water, surrounded by the clean, fresh air of early spring, my subconscious made a permanent connection between lavender scented Castille soap and the love, beauty, and freedom of nature. When I shower every day I get to go back to that in some small way. It keeps me aware that the wide world is just beyond the thin walls of my bathroom.


We have been back to The Hostel in the Forest since that first time, and we hope to go again. I encourage everyone to find a plae like it. Find a place that is open and natural and peaceful. Find a place where you can strip down your soul and let the warm refreshing power of the wild wash over you. You will never look at things the same way again--even if those things are simple bottles of soap.


As for me, I'm drawing up designs for my very own outdoor shower.