The Trail Was Quiet. My Mind Wasn’t.

Somewhere near Clingman’s Dome, the fog swallowed the trail and my thoughts. I’d imagined the Appalachian would be loud with birds, wind, some kind of revelation. Instead, it was just the sound of my boots and the constant ache in my knees. I kept waiting for peace to hit, for the forest to hand me something profound. All I got was damp socks and the realization that you can’t out-hike your own head. The quiet didn’t heal me. It just made the noise inside sharper. Maybe that’s the point. Sometimes the only thing a new place gives you is space to hear what you’ve been ignoring. #Travel #SoloHikingTruth #AppalachianConfessions