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Not all dreams deferred shrivel and fade in the sun—some snowball through the decades to explode in a beautiful realization. At least that’s the case for many hikers who pursue their long-trail dreams later in life.
“I was 14 when I first knew I wanted to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail,” says retired Pennsylvania lawyer Soren West, who completed the AT in 2016 at the age of 75. “It took me 60 years to get around to doing it, but buddy, when I did? I savored every moment. My time on the trail was just so much more rewarding and amazing than anything I could have imagined.”
West and other older trekkers are quick to acknowledge that age-related advantages like financial stability, refined appreciation for the significance of their hike, and less need to push or prove themselves, are countered by some pretty big drawbacks. Namely, their bodies ain’t what they used to be. But with careful preparation, a keen assessment of physical limitations, and the right gear, thru-hiking later in life is 100 percent doable.
Here, West and fellow long-trail alumni share crucial tips and tricks that helped them tackle bucket list journeys later in life—and that they wish they’d known in advance.
Preparation for Thru-Hiking in Retirement
Only about a quarter of the 2,000-plus would-be thru-hikers that set out on the AT each year finish. Legendary trekker and Appalachian Trail Institute founder, Warren Doyle, attributes the failure rate to two keystone mistakes: Lack of preparation and shitty inspiration. And those determinants become more acute with age.
“The number of people that set out with little or no [backcountry backpacking] experience is astonishing,” says Doyle, 75, who’s logged more than 50,000 trail miles, completed the AT 18 times, and led guided expeditions that have helped more than 200 people tackle thru-hikes of their own. The lack of acumen is amplified by the fact that months-long adventures feature periods “of intense discomfort or even misery, and by the time most people reach their 50s and 60s, they’ve come to expect a high degree of comfort.”
Throw in physical limiters like degenerated knee cartilage, reduced immune response, and slower recovery periods and you’ve got the potential for disaster. The antidote?
“It starts with having a damned good reason for doing this,” says Doyle. Those looking for laidback adventures with easy-access scenery should stick to RVing. If you wanna hike the AT, that goal “has to mean something to you on a deep intrinsic level, or you’ll never make it.”
If your inspiration cuts the mustard, advance to training.
“I tell older hikers [who are new to backpacking] to assess their physical condition and start by erring on the side of caution,” says former U.S. national team soccer star and inspirational outdoor rec speaker, Pam Baughman Cornell. The 62-year-old has hiked about 10,000 miles and completed the AT three times since the year of her 50th birthday.
Begin by working comfortable neighborhood walks and convenient dayhikes with a backpack into your weekly routine. Add more distance, weight, and vertical gain over time as your body gets stronger. When you’re ready, plan a weekend expedition—preferably on the long trail you aim to hike. If that goes well, up the ante.
Participants on Doyle’s guided expeditions spend two-and-a-half years prepping for their dream journeys. Practice excursions take place across four seasons and in every kind of weather. While it isn’t mandatory, Doyle pushes for a trial outing on a shorter but demanding route like the 335-mile Pinhoti Trail.
The strategy helps would-be thru-hikers test their setup, break in gear, and “acclimate to the sustained physical demands and environmental discomforts you will inevitably experience on-trail,” says Doyle. Passing the test is one thing, but “if you enjoy the experience, that’s the true crucible.”
A Measured, Adaptive Approach To Gear
Yes, items like state-of-the-art ultralight tents, headlamps, rain jackets, and boots cost a pretty penny. But looking back at his 2016 NOBO AT hike, West says it didn’t take long to realize that splurging on targeted premium equipment pays dividends in the long-run.
“If you have the money, investing in the really high-end, lightweight gear can help you shave a considerable amount of weight,” he says. The savings can up your comfort factor and average miles-per-day. Less weight will also help prevent injuries in the long term.
Furthermore, older hikers should allow the philosophy of cutting weight in the name of comfort to evolve over time. For instance, West swapped his tent and sleeping bag for a tarp and featherweight mat during warm months. That and similar adaptions let him carry seemingly ridiculous but morale-boosting indulgences like a bladder of wine or bag of oranges into the backcountry.
Other adjustments were more pragmatic, but equally innovative.
Frigid wintery weather and an age-related decline in bladder capacity kamikazed West’s late-hike sleep schedule. Whether throwing on outer layers or stepping outside in his skivvies, “by the time I was done, I’d be wide awake and unable to get back to sleep.” A chance gripe during an unrelated phone call with a family doctor inspired a fix: Using a large, wide-neck bottle as a nighttime urinal nixed the problem entirely.
On the Trail
Doyle, West, and Baughman Cornell agree the “Hike Your Own Hike” slogan should assume mantric significance for older trekkers.
“It sounds flagrantly obvious, but it’s imperative to remember that your body isn’t the same as a 20-, 30-, or even 40-something’s,” says Baughman Cornell. Retirement-age thru-hikers need to closely monitor their physicality and accurately assess symptoms like chronic foot pain or persistent coughs before they worsen. They should also use apps like Gaia GPS to keep track of their position on-trail and the nearest road-crossing in case of emergency.
“It’s easy to get caught up in a group of younger hikers and try to push yourself too hard,” says Baughman Cornell. But a nasty, unheeded ache can suddenly erupt into an adventure-bombing injury. Or worse, “lead to something that negatively impacts your future quality-of-life.”
Doyle urges older long-trailers to ditch the competitive mindset and treat themselves with grace. Don’t be afraid to hike fewer miles per day and take a bit longer than expected to finish. Maximize the impact of zero days by lazing around in a posh hotel room, enjoying a salt-infused bath, and ordering takeout. Adjust your trail schedule to siesta during peak heat hours, then mile-bust early mornings and evenings. Try to maintain a diet that’s as healthy and nutritious as possible.
“Younger people [sometimes] think I’m crazy for carrying tons of fresh fruit, nuts, and vegetables,” says Baughman Cornell. But the extra effort is worth it, “because when I do that I know my body will feel and perform so much better than it would otherwise.”
While Doyle says his tip list could rattle on forever, he points to one as the gold standard: When the rain lashes, the icy wind cuts to your core, your feet are numb, and your thighs scream with fatigue, remember why you’re there.
“Ask yourself what it was that got you on the trail in the first place and carried you all these miles,” he says. After all, “this is your dream hike and the reward isn’t the outcome, but the journey itself.”
