15 Amazingly Stupid Things I Said To My Boyfriend While He Hiked The Appalachia Trail


So, here’s the thing.

My boyfriend decided to hike the ENTIRE 2,185 miles of the Appalachian Trail, ALONE, for charity back in July 2014.  It took him only three-and–a-half-months to complete, which is beyond ridiculous. Needless to say, I was a complete wreck during the entire hike. I literally could not fathom the idea of walking twenty-plus-miles a day, every single day, for over three months, with a limited amount of food and an unlimited amount of creepy, crawly, nasty shit along the way. Sleeping in the dirt? No thank you. Rattlesnakes? I’d rather die.

As the days passed and his journey reached new levels of extreme, I discovered that it was not only helpful, but also necessary to sort of muffle my emotions toward certain topics (or at least make an effort to try). It really made things worse if I was at the other end of the line bawling my eyes out because we had to get off the phone. (It’s also really not cute.)

To put things into perspective for you, imagine you’re my boyfriend. You wake up in the morning before the sun comes up in the middle of the woods. You eat a granola bar for breakfast, put your sweaty, foul-smelling hiking clothes back on, and sit there, waiting for the throbbing in your ankle to subside just enough for you to get moving. Eventually the pain goes numb, and you take off along the Appalachian Trail, pushing yourself to make it through at least 25 miles of mangled rocks, steep inclines, and mud. You’re dehydrated, you’re weak from losing so much weight and, at times, you lack the motivation to continue on. But you do. You reach shelter at the end of the day and decide to call your girlfriend, since you have just enough signal.


Yes. True story. If there was an award for shittiest girlfriend ever to exist, I deserved it that day. Apparently, I had a temporary lapse in judgment and decided that I would complain to my starving boyfriend about how full I was from eating a gigantic steak. I’ll go out on a limb and guess that if it was possible to strangle your significant other through the phone, he would’ve done it (and I can’t say I would’ve blamed him). His exact response was, “Are you seriously complaining to me about eating a steak right now?” Which, let’s be real, was a nice way of saying, “GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF, ALEX.”

So, while we’re on the topic, here are some other examples of things you should never, EVER say while talking to an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker:

You: “I’m supposed to go to happy hour for dollar beers but, ugh, I don’t feel like it.”

What he’s thinking: “Oh, ok, well I didn’t feel like hiking that 5,000 foot mountain today but, you know, I’m sure happy hour is just as intense.”

You: “God, I just can’t decide what toppings to get on my pizza, what do you think I should I get?”

What he’s thinking: “How about pepperoni and an extra layer of ‘shut the hell up?'”

You: “OH MY GOD, the elevator was out today and I had to climb eight flights of stairs.”

What he’s thinking: “Oh? Did you know that I climbed 3,000 feet in the rain today? But wow, eight flights, you deserve a goddamned medal for that.”

You: “My memory foam mattress makes me way too hot at night.”

What he’s thinking: “I was thinking the same thing about the concrete floor I slept on last night, except I wasn’t hot, I was hypothermic.”

You: “Why didn’t you call me last night?”

What he’s thinking: “Oh, I’m sorry, I guess that shelter I stayed in with 14 other dirty hikers in the middle of the woods screwed up my cell phone reception. Next time I’ll check for a pay phone or pull a laptop out of my ass and email you.”

You: “You’re not staying with a bunch of girls, are you?”

What he’s thinking: “Oh good, that’s what I need while I’m sitting here trying to reattach my toenail, insecure questions about imaginary women.”

You: “Wait, you eat cans of tuna fish everyday?”

What he’s thinking: “It’s weird, I planned on bringing a grill and some filet mignon, but it wouldn’t fit in my backpack.”

You: “Did you read my text?”

What he’s thinking: “Shit, I KNEW there was something more important I needed to be doing. Screw trying to filter this dirty water.”

You: “I’m so tired.”

What he’s thinking: “Oh, did you also jack up your ankle and crawl 5 miles to a shelter? No? So you you’re just tired from thinking of dumb shit to say to me, then?”

You: “Man, I need a vacation!”

What he’s thinking: “Well, shit, I thought the TRAIL was stressful. But I guess sitting at home every night trolling Facebook must be really demanding.”

You: “I had so much trouble sleeping last night.”

What he’s thinking: “Well, sucks for you. Obviously I slept like a log in the shelter, which luckily had an intoxicating aroma of body odor and urine. ” 

You: “I went to spin class last night and I’m so sore.

What he’s thinking: “I fucked up my knee while heading down a mountain, but yeah, I’m sure 30 minutes of spin class really put a hurtin’ on your vagina or something.”

You: “I’m so hungover, this is the worst day ever!

What he’s thinking: “Shit, a hangover? I ran out of water after 20 miles and almost stepped on a rattlesnake, but I’d look like such a pussy bringing that up NOW. “

You: “I need to vent! I want to talk about why I’m upset right now.”

What he’s thinking: “And I want to talk about how much I hate you right now.”

You: “I miss you, hike faster!”

What he’s thinking: “Hike faster? Sure! Only if you eat shit first.”

You: “Do you ever get scared out there?”

What he’s thinking: “I was 40 feet away from a giant bear yesterday, but, you know, how scary are they really?”

You: “I really need to buy new clothes.”

What he’s thinking: “I haven’t worn underwear in 2 months and I’m scared to even look down there, but go on about your new wardrobe.”

You: “I banged my knee into my desk today, it really hurt.”

What he’s thinking: “I was forced to walk across jagged rocks that cut into my feet like knives, but that’s cool, I’m sure we totally feel the same level of pain. Twinsies!” 

You: “Are you ready to come home yet?”


You: “My back hurts from sitting in my office chair all day.”

What he’s thinking: “I drank beer at 6:00am to try and numb the pain I feel in literally every part of my body, I hope you get scoliosis from that chair.”

You: “It’s so cold here today!”

What he’s thinking: “Oh, is it? I hiked 24 miles today in 28 degree weather in a downpour and I couldn’t see 5 feet in front of my face. But no, I feel bad that it’s light-jacket-weather where you are, HOW UNBEARABLE.”

You: “Are you having fun?”

What he’s thinking: “I used the tree as a toilet and went through an entire pack of baby wipes after eating a gas station burrito, I’m having a fucking blast.”

Are you getting my point yet? My advice is that if you ever happen to date someone who’s hiking the Appalachian Trail, USE SOME COMMON SENSE, PEOPLE. Seriously, don’t be an idiot. He might decide to just live on the trail forever.

In conclusion: Don’t be like me, kids.