How Hiking in Skateboarding Shoes Changed My Life

 I took my first backpacking trip in the summer before I started eighth grade. I was chubby, unmotivated, and just I was in my room listening to my iPod. My mom had tried to tell me that I needed hiking boots and that she would buy them for me, but they didn’t look very cool to me. So off I went, to hike an 80 mile section of the Appalachian Trail in Etnies skateboarding shoes.

When I was a little kid I loved the outdoors, I had to be dragged inside once it got dark out, but as adolescence came, I spent most of my time watching TV or playing video games. No one else that I knew thought that hiking and camping were fun so why should I? But here I was, staring out the window of a bus full of strangers, with a backpack full of supplies that I didn't know how to use. 

I got a few questions and comments about the shoes before we started on the trail, I gave everyone the same answer, "I'll be fine.". Our group of 15 started out early in the morning, and despite my footwear choices, I was able to keep up with the middle of the pack. One group paced fast and ended up far ahead, while another group fell behind, and after a little while I found myself hiking completely alone. Despite fatigue setting in, I didn’t mind, most of the group I had never met, and the ones that I had, I barely knew.  After what felt like an eternity, we stopped for lunch. After the group had reunited, I asked our leader, exhausted, how far we had gone. I expected to hear somewhere around 10-15 miles, "About a mile" she replied. My heart sank and suddenly, my feet started to hurt.

We eventually made camp, dinner was served, freeze-dried mashed potatoes. I decided to pass and just ate a Clif Bar. The next morning we headed out, I felt like I was sleep walking. We were only about 12 miles in at this point, and I didn't know how I could possibly make it to the end of the trip. Once again I found myself hiking alone, but for the first time, I actually started to notice my surroundings. I began to notice the sunlight coming through the trees. I started to listen for the sound of animals in the distance, and before I knew it, we had stopped for lunch. The rest of the day was easy, my feet were beginning to get used to hiking, and we only traveled 8 miles to make camp early. The days that followed, were not nearly so easy.

Two items I did bring that I ended up regretting were my sleeping pad and blanket. My sleeping pad was supposed to be "self-inflating" but either I broke it, or it just straight up didn’t work. Either way, by day three it had become a useless, heavy piece of plastic that took up a lot of room. My blanket had also become useless because not only did I already have a sleeping bag, but it was also the middle of summer in the southeast U.S. where even at night it never fell below 75. I tied the sleeping pad and blanket to the outside of my backpack, but as we began a long uphill, they started to unravel. I didn't want to stop and fix it so I just picked them up and carried them in my hands. When the trail leveled out I tried to redo it, but 5 minutes later it happened again. As luck would have it my blanket caught a rock and sent me head over heels into the dirt. Angry and embarrassed, I slowly moved along. By the time we finally made camp, I was in a terrible mood. We were having mashed potatoes again tonight, but this time, I gladly ate them. The next day, we ran into one of the bathrooms located along the trail. I was at my wit’s end with the blanket and sleeping pad, and seizing my opportunity, I abandoned them in the bathroom stall while no one was looking.

That took care of one issue, but I became painfully aware of the other. When we stopped, I looked at my shoes, I had worn several holes in the bottom of them. Once I noticed the holes, I noticed the pain, every bloody, blistered step hurt. And as we began to ascend a mountain, I was barely able to limp forward. By some miracle I clawed my way to the summit, which was also near a road. The people with cellphones (not me, this was 2010, I wasn’t that cool) were able to get some service. Our leader convinced one of her friends who lived nearby to bring us some McDonalds for dinner. I’m a pretty picky eater. I don't eat French fries, I don't drink soda, and my burger toppings consist of cheese, and maybe some onions or bacon. But when my French fries, Coke, and Big Mac arrived, I ate every last bite of it, and it was maybe the most satisfying meal of my entire life. I began to enjoy sitting out by the campfire, talking to people, and enjoying the views. I sat in the quiet, watching the last few rays of orange light disappear through the trees into the night. I felt peace, the years around this period of my life weren’t the best. I was an angry kid, I got into a lot of trouble but here, miles from civilization, I was free. The outdoors had freed me.

Despite my positive outlook, over the next two days my shoes became worse and worse. The soles were barely attached to the shoes, and my feet were bleeding pretty consistently. But still, I was happy to be there, I still hiked alone for most of the day, but now I was noticing every different tree, every squirrel, every overlook. I’d get so enamored with the beauty of the trail that I would periodically forget that I was more or less hiking barefoot.

Our final day on the trail was easy, it was only about 6 miles of flat terrain to our bus. I had hardly any rubber left on my shoes, and my feet were half blister and half blood, but I was smiling the entire way. As I reflected on the hike I thought, just imagine if I had worn hiking boots, and packed properly. How much more incredible would this have been? When I arrived home, I became obsessed with the outdoors. I went backpacking again soon after, with my brand new hiking boots, and I was hooked. I kept those worn out shoes as a trophy for a long time, because I uncovered my love for the peace and beauty of the great outdoors, while I was limping along in skateboarding shoes. It may have been a painful experience but it helped me discover who I am.