Hike #29 Suspended Between Struggle and Gratitude

Hike #29 Day 2 Vermont | September 22, 2025 | Hiking with AGC | 10.88 miles, 2,759 ft ascent, 2,933 ft descent | Cold River Road to Vermont 140

Today was our most challenging hike, nearly 11 miles with more than 2,700 feet of climbing and just as much descending. After yesterday’s cold start and my struggle to breathe, I felt nervous heading out from Cold River Road. But right away, I noticed the difference: my lungs opened, my breathing felt steady, and the simple act of moving uphill filled me with gratitude.

Clarendon Gorge | Joy in the Crossing

Early in the day, after summiting Beacon Hill, we reached one of the most beautiful surprises on the Appalachian Trail: Clarendon Gorge. A rocky, not so rushing (drought here) river, framed by forest, spanned by a suspension bridge that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

There’s something magical about a suspension bridge. It connects, yes, one side to the other, but it also holds tension. It’s strong and flexible all at once. And as I stood in the center of it, for a quick second, I couldn’t help but reflect on all the transitions in my life, many of them still happening, often all at once.

Finding Stability in Motion

The bridge wobbled a lot. That’s how transitions feel, not unsteady enough to collapse, but just enough to remind you that you’re alive and in motion. You hold your own balance by not rushing. You move with intention. And that’s how I’ve tried to live.

I’ve walked across many metaphoric bridges from employee to entrepreneur, from mom of toddlers to young adults, from founder to mentor. Each time, I’ve had to pause in the middle and ask: What’s on the other side of this for me?

The AT gives you that space to think. And while every climb has its burn and every descent its relief, it’s the crossings, “the bridges”, that make you stop and look around. They remind you to honor the transition, not just the destination.

Climbing Higher and a Sweet Surprise

But this day wasn’t done with us. With more than 2,700 feet of ascent, the trail tested us again and again, steep rocks, long steady climbs, and careful descents that demanded focus. By the time we reached the top of Bear Mountain, my legs were tired but my spirit was light.

And there, at the summit, I received a message from an old friend (thanks Sam!). Just a few kind words, but they landed like a gift. After the intensity of the climb, it was a moment of sweetness, of connection, that reminded me how much joy can be found in the simplest things.

Gratitude on the Hardest Day

This hike held everything: difficulty, beauty, surprise, and relief. I ended the day tired but grateful. Grateful that my lungs cooperated. Grateful for my old and new friends on the trail. Grateful for the suspension bridge that reminded me to trust transitions. Grateful for friends who still find ways to reach out across the miles.

The Appalachian Trail has a way of breaking you down and building you back up, often in the same day. And on this hardest day so far, I realized that gratitude is the bridge that carries us forward, one step, one climb, one breath at a time.