*Les Alpilles, the mini alps, actually. I’m writing this post from a cafe in Saint Remy in the south of France where I’m guiding a trip with Adventures in Good Company. A fabulous local French guide named Delphine is in charge, and I am here to support her and our lovely group of guests. It will be my last guided trip of the 2026 season. It’s been a busy one! Between AGC and private clients, I’ve guided almost 100 women since April. It is a privilege to witness the accomplishments of the women I guide. It’s also a serious commitment to safety, logistics, and showing up ready for anything, every time.
When I started this blog, I was working on hiking New England’s 67 4000 footers in one year. Back then, I considered myself a writer first, a hiker second, so it made sense to keep a written record of my project. I wanted to share detailed trail information and personal experiences I hoped would help others plan their own hikes. That balance has shifted. Now I hike more than I write, and I do a lot of planning for other people. I chose this shift intentionally, and I’m grateful that I was able to turn hiking into my job. I have seen incredible places, worked amazing co-guides, and led hundreds of truly inspiring women on trails all over the country and world.
What I’ve realized, though, is that when your job is also the thing you love, you have to keep loving it in your own way. I’ve been thinking about thru hiking the Appalachian Trail for several years, but with a daughter at home, I wasn’t ready to take the time away. I had my eye on spring 2027, when my daughter was in college, as my first possible opportunity to hike the trail. As the 2026 guide season progressed, that 2027 date became definite, as did my goal to complete the hike in 90 days.
Why 90 days? As evidenced by my 67-summits-in-a-year project, I like goals that sit just within the realm of possibility. Stretch goals, you might call them. The kind that take planning, training, and commitment. That push limits, test endurance, and seem just a little crazy to most people… or at least to the people who don’t know me. The ones who do are not surprised at all.
During my last complete hike of the 100 Mile Wilderness in 2023, I hiked a 26 mile day. It was long and grueling and I loved it. If you do the math, 90 days on the AT is about 24.5 miles a day. Of course, one long day is a lot different than 90 long days in a row, the last 20 or so of which will be on very challenging terrain (New Hampshire and Maine). But… that’s why it is a goal and not a given. And that’s why I’m training for the trail now, not just hoping I sprout 25-miles-a-day trail legs in Georgia.
So, what does that training look like? I have a solid foundation of time and miles on my feet. That’s the perk of hiking for a living! But I haven’t hiked my own hike in a long time. Training means speed and strength. Cross-training to prevent injury when I’m exhausted and speed training to cover big miles. 24.5 miles a day doesn’t mean 24.5 miles every day. It’s an average. It means 35 miles when the terrain is easy and 15 when it’s hard (NH & ME, I know what you do to thru hikers). Learning to fuel for energy, longevity, and recovery. Preparing to spend 12-14 hours a day on my feet and in my head. Being ready to be alone, away from family and friends, for a long time.
It means training to suffer well.
And I am training to write about goals again.
The entries I wrote about the 4000 footers included specific details about the trails and notes that I hoped others would find useful. These entries detailing my training and planning for the AT will be less trail log, more personal experience. Some will be short, others will be long, some will be useful, some will be useless. But they will capture the goal, and the experience, and record this moment of transition in my life.
Everything changed the first time I spent a week alone in the woods. I wonder what will happen after three months.
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Thanks to all who have read and continue to read here!
