Hello, internet friends. I’m about 1300 miles into my Appalachian saunter and my feet hurt, it’s hot as hell, the bugs have bones to pick and evidently I find myself complaining rather often. Yet I am closer to the promised land of Maine than I ever have been, and as hard as it may be to believe, I’m enjoying my beautiful surroundings. New Jersey, you rock!

When speaking on a surface level about the AT, conversations typically revolve around two to three locations: the South and New England, but mainly just Maine and New Hampshire for the second bucket. Pennsylvania gets an honorable mention for how terrible the rocks are, and Vermont is admired for its beauty and mud, but outside of that, there is a sizable portion of trail, basically from Maryland to Connecticut, that is not discussed at large. That’s the section I am in right now, and I want to share some thoughts I have on: why this part matters a lot, the expectation setting of others and the endurance and adaptation needed to make it all the way.

A little over a week ago, I decided to take some space from my “tramily,” whom I had been hiking with for roughly 650 miles. It was a hard decision to make, but I could tell there was an unfulfilled need that could be nurtured through hiking solo. I eventually recognized that it was curiosity, a core value to my existence. While I appreciated the great company of my friends, I craved the opportunity to meet new people and explore the world on my own for a bit. Sometimes you just need to spend a night alone in the woods to figure some things out.

Just two days into my venture, I met my friend Woody, a fast, wise Canadian who carries a banjo. Our conversation made me feel justified in my decision, and together we came to the name of this article: “the Doldrums.” This nautical term refers to an area in the Atlantic with little surface wind, becalming ships or even bringing them to complete stillness. Sailors dreaded the doldrums because they could be delayed for days or even weeks, leading to difficult situations with food and water shortages.

After enduring Virginia’s 570 miles, your sense of distance and time become somewhat obfuscated since it is so much larger than any other state. You also hit a series of milestones around that time: the 1,000 mile mark during the “Rollercoaster”; Harpers Ferry, WV, which is the mental halfway point; Pine Grove Furnace, PA, the actual halfway point; and somewhere after the amazing 501 shelter (please don’t tear it down NPS!) you reach the 1,200 mile marker, suggesting you’ve only triple digit miles until Katahdin.

This also seems to be the section of trail where many people throw in their towels, and I can understand why. Amid all these milestones are some deep emotions and physical exhaustion from walking a thousand miles. It’s also the first time we’ve dealt with serious heat — the kind that makes friends from the Paved Realm text to say “I can’t believe you’re hiking right now!” — and with it come the bugs, sweat and dehydration.

Though I said the Doldrums resemble a 500-mile stretch that isn’t really talked about, on the other hand, the amount of expectation-setting I have heard in the last few weeks has been off the chains. While I recognize it comes from a place of care, nearly every person I encounter on the trail has something to say about what my future holds and how good or bad it’ll be.

“You may climb the ladder, only to realize it was against the wrong wall.” — Joseph Campbell

Everyone knows that Pennsylvania’s alias is Rocksylvania, and that your feet will be penalized by the hard terrain. As I ventured north across the state, I encountered rocks and observed my foot pain. But then I was told “you haven’t seen any rocks yet! Just wait til Duncannon.” And after passing Duncannon, “the rocks don’t start til Swatara Gap!” At Swatara, it became Port Clinton, and so forth. I was frustrated by these unsolicited descriptions of how my trail experience would be, so I decided to push as hard as I could and finished the state of PA in just 9 days of hiking. While proud of my physical accomplishment, my Munk-like nature of being present was hindered by this constant setting of expectations.

Of course, Pennsylvania is neither the first nor last time that someone will try to write my trail experience for me (I will also use this moment to vindicate those who accurately said the rockiest part was at the end of the state). Virginia was deemed flat, and I have probably been warned of the steepness of the White Mountains more than 100 times since Springer. My point is not to correct these descriptions or scold others for recounting their experiences; rather it’s to remind us all to hike our own hikes and live in the present moment.

My feet hurt from Pennsylvania, but I found the state to be quite beautiful. As I travel through New Jersey, I have walked through more rocks — many have joked that Penn’s rocks come from Jersey — but I’ve also seen a glacial pond and had undisturbed serenity in these woods already. Moreover, the mid-Atlantic has demonstrated a unique relationship between trail and town, where civilization intertwines with nature in an unusual way. Drifting into a town each day allows us hikers to grab a cold drink and pack out a sandwich if we want; we call that “deli blazing.”

From river forts to walking under interstate bridges, the Appalachian Trail shines in its multifaceted beauty. You can only ever appreciate it and express your love to it when you are actually there — the past and the future are only figments of the mind. I said it in the last article and I’ll say it again: hike your own hike!

Furthermore, I think the Doldrums render a bit of confusion about our objectives for the trail. With milestones noting our proximity to finishing, such emphasis on mileage might make us forget all the other reasons we are doing the trail — be it spiritual ones, self reflection or something else. In the book “Appalachian Trials” by Zach Davis, which highlights the mental hardships of the AT and how one can prepare, he recommends creating a list of all the reasons why you’re out here, as well as how you might see yourself after successfully completing the 2,200 miles. It’s less about setting expectations and more about creating a reference sheet that you can look to when times are tough.

The three reasons I wrote back in 2023 are: I want the time to reevaluate the direction of my life and career, I can do a computer job for the rest of my life, and I am looking for a challenge that will help me build greater self confidence and character. Is there a clear and definite connection between getting 27 bug bites — on one foot, in one night — and separating myself from a monotonous marketing job? Not really, but with each successful day of enduring physical hardship, I can better recognize the self-reliance and autonomy I am developing for myself. Looking back, that day of bug bite hell doesn’t seem so bad!

“But nothing ever stays the same
Nothing’s explained
The stronger the wind, the faster we’ll fly” — Yo La Tengo, “Ohm”

In closing, what makes me call out this 500-something-mile section of trail is that it signifies an important time to look inward and remind ourselves why we’re out here. I want all of my 2025 classmates to reach Mama K, but I have also observed justifiable fatigue, impatience and deflation lately, both in myself and in others. There have been lonely days where I haven’t seen another soul, and there have been others where I am so bothered by the heat that it’s hard to be kind. But I know that this is temporary, that the entire Atlantic Ocean isn’t a doldrum, and that there are truly magical woods that lie ahead. I also called my mom the other day and that helped a lot, too. So long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, the journey will continue.

Trudge onward, fellow AT sailors!!

Munk (like Funk)

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• Hiked Today: 5.8 miles

  • Appalachian Trail (1,756.7 – 1,762.5)

• Total Hiked: 3,695.3 miles
• Total Paddled: 99.5 miles

Weather: 70 – 92 °F, sunny and clear, no breeze, humid

Elevation: 507 – 1,240 feet

Holiday Inn Express White River Junction to Hanover Center Trail Site

I mentioned in yesterday’s post how I’d heard about the tenacity of New Hampshire trail since before starting the ECT. More specifically, I’d heard about the White Mountains… their steepness, ruggedness, exposure to often ferocious weather (particularly wind), and their beauty too. Well, “the White’s,” as they’re often shortened too, now loom not too far ahead. I still have a few days before entering in, but here at the hotel, I spent a good amount of time researching and scheming for that section.

From what I’m gathering, it’s different backpacking in the White’s not only because of the terrain and all the things I mentioned above, but because there are a different set of rules to follow for camping too. I still don’t have it all nailed down, but it seems like the Appalachian Mountain Club is sort of charged as the stewards of the National Forest here. Since it’s such a popular place for folks to visit, they’ve set up a hut system as well as designated camping areas. There are some fees involved too, but I think I’ll get that all explained to me again at the first one. Sounds like I can purchase some sort of thru-hiker pass.

So yeah, I’ve been thinking about that and even further ahead too, but to bring it all back, here’s what went down today….

I asked for and was granted a late check out, so, I had until noon before I had to scadaddle. What a joy to sleep in (more than normal anyways) and relax in the room. I had some coffee, went down to the lobby for breakfast, took another shower, and slowly packed up. It was a great stay and a needed rest and recharge!

The bus showed up as I was walking up to the stop. I even had to do a little speed walk that bordered on a trot to catch it. In no time though, I was back in college world. I got off right at the post office and made a quick jaunt inside. Then it was back down the road towards the the Food Co-op. It was super hot today and I think a heat advisory was even put in place. Good timing for me to do back to back neros. Also, all the more reason for me to just take my time getting going.

After calling my mom to catch up, I went inside the store and got some chicken tenders, fries, and an Arnold Palmer.

A little after 2:00 pm I finally got to stepping. There wasn’t too much of the town walk left, and after flanking a soft ball field, I entered the woods again. Things started up right away. The thought that I only needed to go a few miles pulled me forward. If I had schemed to try and do 10+ or so, I’m not sure I would’ve had the motivation.

The spot I’d originally thought of tenting seemed to be in a Forest Protection Area, so I went a little further until I found a little knoll that was outside of it, but still in the AT corridor and the National Forest. It was nice to be in early and have plenty of time to set up and hang. I must have stuffed myself too much at lunch though because I had no appetite even for the pizza and cheesy bread I’d packed out.

Hoping my body feels ready to keep moving tomorrow after a couple lower mileage days!

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To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.