by Karen Viola. Walking in wildness with intention is a body-mind workout. It is all types of fun, alone or with friends. For me, it goes beyond recreational privilege. Hiking has grown to be my pilgrimage to presence and possibility. And yes, it is a privilege.

by Ron Tipton, retired President/CEO of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. My life was transformed by my A.T. journey. I decided my mission was to spend the rest of my career protecting national parks and wilderness areas and other special places in the American landscape, including the Appalachian Trail. When I hiked in 1978, more than 200 miles of the Trail were on public roads and more than 600 miles were in private ownership. Today the entire A.T. is publicly owned, permanently protected and managed by federal and state conservation agencies. I am proud to say I had a role in that historic achievement.

By Cristen Heavens. I remember when I cried because I wasn’t sure I’d ever enjoy hiking again. The hiking backpack I’d bought, clean and new, was still beckoning me from the corner of my room. I kept promising myself that, once I felt well again, I’d take it on a trip. It still pains me that I sold the backpack before that day ever came.

by Mark Larabee. The thing is, while we joke about the exertion and the exhaustion that hiking can bring, there’s no place either of us feels more at peace. We both spend our working days at the keyboard, so time outside is always precious, no matter how arduous. Whenever life’s daily grind becomes overwhelming, a walk in the woods is typically the cure.

by Timmy Le. Living with cerebral palsy, I love to challenge and push myself beyond what I once thought was my outer boundaries. If I can reach the summit of a mountain then all of the challenges that I face in my daily life are easy in comparison. This lesson, just like everything I learned in the lab as a scientist, taught me that the best teacher is nature…

I often feel like I’m moments away from losing my mind. As a child I watched my grandmother lose touch with reality and somehow I knew I would go the same way. In a world that fears what it does not understand, we simply never talk about mental illness for fear of being shunned. I think that most who suffer, still do so silently and alone. Through years of work and education the stigma is starting fade, but we still have work to do. My name is Odie and I’m as crazy as the Loons in the ponds of southern Maine.

by Sugar. I #hikeOctober because I can! In 1997 I was in a bad car accident and was told I would never walk again… it brought on a lot of depression and the fact that I was raised in a very abusive and dysfunctional household made it even worse. Until I hiked the John Muir trail in ’07, I didn’t have much confidence in myself as a person much of it from my upbringing. I found that hiking sometimes alone for many hours not only helped me spiritually but with my self confidence as well. It gave me much time to reflect on my life and where I was going and what I wanted to make of myself.

by Keely Carney. When I was 22, I found myself in rehab. Years of daily blackout drinking and a crippling case of alcoholism will do that. But I wasn’t just in rehab because I struggled with alcoholism. I was in rehab because I struggled with life. Like most people battling mental illness, my story was complex. I’d dealt with depression. I’d dabbled in eating disorders. I’d spent the majority of my life feeling deeply uncomfortable in my skin and in this world. So there I was. While most of my classmates were preparing to graduate college, I was livin’ it up in rehab. At this particular rehab, livin’ it up included going on weekly hikes. Even though it was January. In Connecticut. And snowing. Nothing like forcing someone who’s already uncomfortable all the time to get more uncomfortable… And it was. My first hike was deeply uncomfortable.

by Kerry “Cyndi Loppers” Stewart. I #hikeOctober because fear can be crippling. I was afraid of one thing or another my entire childhood. I was afraid of more than one thing or another most of my adult life. I am scared of crossing the street without a crosswalk, making unprotected left turns while driving, being alone, peanut shells, anything that flies, crowded rooms, physical contact with strangers, heights, clowns, thunder, strange dogs, germs … The list goes on. I am not completely agoraphobic but I choose to rarely leave my home unless it’s to go to work or to the grocery store.