Personal Narrative: The Appalachian Trail

Ever since my first backpacking trip 6 years ago, I’ve had an affinity for the Appalachian Trail. I’m constantly looking for excuses to mash our lives into the giant, 50 liter bags, and hit the trail for a few days. This past year, in early fall, I convinced my parents to don their sturdy boots and disappear into the wilds of bear state park with me for three days. We were dropped off at the top of Bear Mountain and, while my parents argued over directions, I wandered around the windswept ridge. The grasses that grew out of rocky fissures and in expanses along the tourist paths were dried from the September heat and waved golden-brown in the slight morning breeze. Far off in the distance, one could see the silver-blue ribbon of the Hudson River in a foggy haze. In the middle of the clearing rose a five story obelisk, like a fat pin on a Giant’s map. I was beginning to get that special antsy feeling reserved for right before a significant event. It was time to go. …show more content…
When I hike, I’m fairly oblivious of the people around me. I tend to walk faster than them and am usually completely engrossed in my natural surroundings. The noises and, quite often, the pure silence of the woods is a mesmerizing.
At every switchback, we would hit a vista. The trees would part and we would stand on precarious rock formations, looking over an undulating abyss of green, pressed onto a bluebird background. Occasionally, in the far off distance we’d catch glimpses of the Hudson, snaking around the mountain ranges. This was the Trail I knew and