Thru-hiking is something that can either bring you to the precipice of enlightenment or take you to the dark empty pit of despair. It will test your will and break you. It will show you the strength that lies within you.

Strap that pack to your back and take that first step into the unknown.

There are few moments in our lives when we have the opportunity to take a step outside our comfort zone and find meaning in the questions that haunt us at night.

All the unknowns… All the what-ifs… All the how longs… All the what’s next…

Answers to all those questions can be found on the trail. You will find both the answers you wanted to hear and the answers to questions you never bothered to ask.

Say goodbye to yourself. The person you have gotten to know over your lifetime is leaving and never coming back from this journey. This is a one-way trip.

If you are ready for your journey and the life transformation it brings the information you seek is right before your eyes. If you are ready for mud, swamp, and tears, 1,100 Miles on the Florida Trail is waiting.

Unleash your inner adventurer and embark on a journey of a lifetime with our comprehensive guide on how to plan a thru-hike on the Florida Trail – BRAVELY VENTURING: MY EPIC THUR-HIKE OF THE FLORIDA TRAIL – PLANNING

Part 1 – Big Dreams to Big Cypress the Florida Trail

Hare-brained Ideas with a Side of Ranch Dressing

The idea… Oh, that idea… The trail and the thru-hike all start with that insane idea that exposing yourself to the elements will be fun and a great way to show off your bad-assery.

Where does it happen? Maybe while you lay in bed with the light from your phone burning into your skull. You feel that space inside of you. Something is missing.

You wake up with the sun shining outside, but you feel like a dingy overcast surrounds you. You feel trapped in a box you call your home. The urge to escape and feel the sun on your face is uncontrollable. Something is lacking.

Your life has turned into an iceberg lettuce salad with no dressing. Flavorless and dull.

What you need in your life is something new, a new adventure. You need something zesty to add flavor back into your life. Maybe a new experience that reminds you that you are alive and you can do anything.

You watch YouTube videos of mountain men and women climbing high summits. Their hair blows in the wind; the views are epic. After hitting the top, they aren’t even winded. There is a giant smile on their faces and they said they just hiked a 28-mile day. They have a 30-liter pack strapped to their backs and wear pristine, new outfits without a speck of dirt. You say hey, this doesn’t look so bad… I could totally thru-hike.

$1500 Worth of Crap You Didn’t Know You Needed

So now you have this idea of what a thru-hike is based on what you have seen on YouTube. You shuffle over to the garage and the closet that holds all your stuff for camping and outdoor activities. You pull the storage containers out and a bunch of dust bunnies tickles your nose and you sneeze.

Okay, mental notes on what you have and need for this thru-hike. You take each item out and lay them on the floor.

1. You have an old tent that you take car camping… It definitely won’t do. The thing weighs over six pounds. You can’t carry that on your back for 1,100 miles.

2. There’s a sleeping bag that looks and smells questionable.

3. Miscellaneous pots and pans that in no way would work for a thru-hike. They are bulky and made to feed multiple people.

4. There’s a cheap blow-up air mattress that you bought off Amazon for $25. Okay, that’s not going to work.

5. There’s a backpack that you’ve had since you can remember. You put it on, it looks like it was made for a toddler and the waist belt barely straps closed. It has zero support and will rub you raw within the first 25 Miles.

Okay, so far this is not going as planned. You start to feel a little discouraged and worry if you are ready for this huge undertaking.

What you need is a professional to help you pick out the right gear for this long journey. The friendly staff at REI can fill those big shoes.

You show up to REI ready to pick up just a few things that you are missing. Maybe a couple of “upgrades” on your existing gear.

The first step into that air-conditioned mecca of everything you never knew you needed was an uppercut to your better judgment. The credit card in your pocket begins to smoke and brand your leg with the letters R.E.I.

It all happened so fast. Did you lose consciousness during this outing? It all seems like a dream. All you can remember is the assault of specs. Something about rip-stop, anti-microbial, double-walled, ISO, titanium, claw gripping, sand gaiters, Marino wool, anti-gravity, dehydrated, leave no trace, carbon-infused, Dyneema,  rechargeable, ultra-light, biodegradable, rescue GPS, water filtration/purification, waterproof, multi-tool, R-value, EN rating system, what the hell just happened to me?

You stumble out to your car with so much stuff, half of it ends up falling out of your grasp, and you fumble with your keys.

You get home and unwrap everything from their shiny new packages. You lay it out on the floor to gaze and marvel at your new gear that will keep you alive and comfortable for 1,100 miles on the Florida Trail.

Your imagination starts to wander. You see yourself just like the people on YouTube, pristine and happy. You can not wait for that first step. Kickoff can not come soon enough.

Kicking Off with a Saturated Spirit

The day has finally arrived. You are off to your thru-hike on the Florida Trail. You’ve been waiting for this moment for months. You have researched countless hours to know what to expect on this magnificent journey.

Your pack is ready. Everything has found a place. And of course, everything that you have brought with you for your hike is absolutely necessary. Or at least that’s what you think at this very moment.

You are en route to the Southern Terminus with your mind wandering and daydreaming in full effect.

Fresh virgin trail legs ready for a walkabout across the entire state of Florida.

You start to feel the nervous ping in the pit of your stomach. From the unknowns and the excitement of something new and foreign.

This is it, here goes nothing. You locate the mailbox with the trail registration safety tucked inside. Then grab the book and flip through all the other names that came before you. You sit there and wonder how many of them made it to the end.

You confidently scribble your name and the date and try to think of something poetic to say. Something epic. There are so many emotions and thoughts just overflowing out of you at this very moment. How could you possibly write how you feel? There are no words to express what emotions are blossoming in your heart.

What you wrote is for you and anyone else who comes after to know. It is your secret you share. A secret of one thru-hiker’s dream to another. It’s a very special club, and only the bravest may join.

What lies before you now is unknown. Along the path are dreams and nightmares. Both are welcome.

Up ahead is your first challenge. You have read and seen pictures of Big Cypress National Preserve. But now you are about to get a first-hand taste of what it has in store for you. You will be hiking for four days through a swamp, tromping through water that in places can be waist-deep. Big Cypress on the Florida Trail has been called one of the most difficult section hikes in the United States.

The first seven miles are exactly like you imagined in your mind; the ground is dry and well-maintained. The feeling of the sun kissing your cheeks is amplified. You have a hop in your step and everything you see is amazing and new.

Along the trail you see some alligators basking in the morning sun. You feel your heart jump from the realization that beasts are out there that can make you a meal in the blink of an eye.

Then you see the water sparkling in the distance. Things are about to get wet. The dry trail disappears and all you can see to the horizon is water. You are officially in the swamp. You look up to follow the orange blazes because the trail has turned into a muddy morass and there is no notable path.

That first step into the water is challenging to do. Even though you know this is all you will be doing for days. The shock of the water and the feeling of wet feet give you pause. You just go for it and storm ahead determined to show Big Cypress who’s the boss.

Treading through water starts to become more complicated than you originally imagined. Your legs start to feel tired and the muscles begin to ache. The repetitive motion is starting to make your feet scream. You feel like you are kicking a concrete wall. New aches and pains that you didn’t know existed begin to pound with the beat of your heart.

The fatigue sets in, and you start to find yourself not as sharp as you were this morning. The steps become less calculated. Before you are aware, you take a miss-step into a solution hole and find your whole body, including your 30-pound pack, flying forward with such momentum Newton would be intrigued. You do a face plant in the water, finding it difficult to pick yourself up and there is nothing around you to grab onto. You flail around like a bird with its wings clipped. Finally, you can hoist yourself back up to a standing position soaked from head to toe.

You stand there in suspended animation. How did something like this happen? The tough thru-hiker you thought you were was instantly transformed into a sopping sad excuse for a backpacker.

Your spirit takes a scrape. You feel discouraged by this event. Maybe it’s time to get to camp and give your spirit and body a well-deserved night of rest.  Tomorrow is a new day.

Feet, Feet, Feet, Feet

The sun rises and you slowly open your eyes. For a moment you forgot where you were at. Then you feel it. The agonizing pain radiating from your feet. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn that a truck ran over your feet in the night.

You slowly unzip the side of your sleeping bag to inspect the damage from the invisible dump truck.

You catch a breath in your throat. What you see before your eyes is unbelievable.  Both your big toes are double their normal size. They almost look comical, like a giant plastic thumb, a cartoon character used to hitchhike. They have a sickly bluish transparent color to them. It looks like zombie flesh.

Well, this is not good. You are in the middle of a swamp with three full days of hiking until you reach civilization.

You have only two options. Continue forward or turn around and go back. How can this be happening? You’ve been on the trail for only 24 hours. You’ve been prepping and planning for this hike for months. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think your feet would be your downfall.

You slowly crawl out of your tent to attempt to stand up on your Frankenstein’s feet. Slowly you stand upright. Okay… Not too bad. It hurts, but you can stand. You do a couple of laps around the campsite to ensure you can still walk. A slight limp… Not a horrible pain… Nothing a few ibuprofen won’t cure. You decide to continue.

Mud and Blood

Day two was similar to day one. The pain is ever-present. Every step taken is suffering. But you keep going; all you can do is keep going. As the day wears on, you start to feel the fatigue kick in. The repetition, the forward motion. The only break from the repetitive walking is when you need to stray off the trail to find water to filter at the cypress domes.

Night comes again, and so does exhaustion. You fall asleep even before your head hits your sleeping pad.

That familiar first light hits your face and awakens your aching body. Must get up, pack up camp and keep on moving.

On day three you start to notice the weight of your pack. It starts to rub into your shoulders and press on your hips. They told you it was an anti-gravity suspension, but all you can feel is the weight of the universe pressing down.

You have not had much of an appetite, and the food that you brought remains. You have forced down a few protein bars and prepared a freeze-dried meal on the first night. However, most of it went unconsumed. All you crave is water and Ibuprofen.

You have officially hit survival mode. You press on in the scorching heat of the Florida Everglades. There is no shade, only bare cypress trees. The environment looks more like a wet desert than a swamp. The trees look as if they died long ago and have been bleached by the unrelenting sun. The only life you see soars above you in the sky. Waiting for your demise and a tasty meal.

You have just hit the hardest stretch of trail in the USA. This vast strand of swamp goes on for six miles with only 3 dry areas for relief from waist-high water. You will be shuffling and sliding through this part of the trail at less than half a mile an hour. There is a constant threat of your foot plunging into a solution hole and breaking your ankle. Every step is calculated, and every step is done with caution.

The sun is starting to fall. Darkness is your enemy in this section. Hiking at night in pitch blackness could mean your end. There is an island up ahead that is your only option for a dry campsite. You are so close, you are racing the sun for your life.

The mosquitoes start to swarm. They want to devour you alive. You hear the sounds of creatures of the night emerging from the dark shelter of the swamp. Everything around you wants your blood.

Internal Storms Flooding Southern Florida

Day four on the Florida Trail. This experience through the Everglades has pushed and tested your very being. In just four days you have forever changed. Whatever light or energy animates us and gives us life has been altered. On a molecular level, your DNA has changed.

Everything that you have feared in your life is no longer even a blip on your radar. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable has opened new doors into the universal understanding of life. There is an intensity in putting yourself out there, being afraid, but doing it anyway.

You are nearing the end of this section and all of the bottled-up emotions come spilling out. You stop in your very own tracks and lose all control and composure. You start to cry and scream. If the word suffering and agony had a sound, it would be yours. You brace your hands on your knees and scream up to the heavens.

All the hurt, all the pain, all the loss, all the anger, everything that has been missing. The memories that you have filed away are spilling out and are filled with torment and pain, such pain. You feel as if your very core is ripping apart from the pressure of suffering.

After what felt like hours but was, in reality, mere minutes, you are finally empty. Your hurricane of emotions has passed. You pick yourself up from what you have been hiding deep inside all of these years. The storm has passed, and the sun has opened up from behind the clouds of regrets. You continue to pursue your goal, your mission, and your new life.

The Passage of Transference

In your field of vision, you can see the I-75 South gate. That gate represents the accomplishment of something great, something amazing. You have just survived a 30-mile test of persistence in a relentless water-logged wasteland.

You did not pass this test unscathed. But you passed with a new appreciation of your character. You walked, through cypress swamps, marl prairies, pinelands, hardwood hammocks, and estuaries including tidal marshes and mangrove forests. This ecosystem has provided you with an insight into your soul and mind. This section of the Florida Trail begins your journey into enlightenment and understanding of what lies inside of you.

My next blog will cover Part 2 of Mud, Swamp, and Tears… 1,100-Mile Thru-Hike On The Florida Trail. Please subscribe to our Newsletter to receive emails with our new blog posts.

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  Mud, Swamp, and Tears -1,100-Mile Thru-Hike On The Florida Trail – Part 2
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  Bravely Venturing: My Epic Thru-Hike of the Florida Trail – Planning
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  Mud, Swamp, and Tears -1,100-Mile Thru-Hike On The Florida Trail
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