Stories of Grief, Growth, and Transformation in the Outdoors: Part One - Appalachian Trail Conservancy

For generations, many people have turned to outdoor places like the Appalachian Trail in search of something— adventure, challenge, connection, or solitude. But for many, outdoor experiences become something more: a path toward healing. For those experiencing grief or trauma, nature offers a unique kind of medicine.

Each of the stories shared by hikers below reveals the profound ways the outdoors restores and reconnects people. This is the first part of a two-part series. Read part two here. At the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, we believe “take a hike” shouldn’t mean “go away.” It should be an invitation to come back to nature and come back to yourself. Through our Take a Hike campaign, we’re working to change the dictionary definition of this phrase to reflect what millions of hikers already know: taking a hike can change your life.

Processing Loss

“My Story of Healing”

By Carly Brunault

In 2016, the love of my life passed away in a tragic accident. His struggle with addiction was a battle for us both. When he died, the grief consumed me. Five years later, I was still lost in it.

I had always loved hiking, a passion my partner had introduced me to when we were young, but then, it became my lifeline. My good friend decided to take on the 48 4,000-footers in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and I joined her. Each climb became a form of therapy. The steeper the mountain, the deeper I dug into my emotions to get me to the top. My trauma was the fuel that pushed me to every summit. I would struggle and curse the climb, but reaching the top always brought a brief, quiet peace I couldn’t find anywhere else.

After a couple of years, when we had summited nearly every major mountain in New England, my friend asked, “What’s next?” Half-joking, I said, “the Appalachian Trail!” But to my surprise, she started planning our hike. At that time, my life still felt broken. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t plan, couldn’t see much beyond my sadness. My friend Jackie took the lead, sending me links for gear, building the itinerary, and helping me prepare in every way. Without her, I wouldn’t have made it to the trailhead.

While scrolling through Appalachian Trail Facebook groups, I came across a post about a scholarship for hikers seeking a healing journey. It was called One More Day on the Appalachian Trail, created by a family who had lost their loved one to substance use. I instantly felt connected. I applied, and to my amazement, I received a partial scholarship. I now serve on the Board of Directors for that very organization. I get to help others find their own healing through the Trail. What a full-circle moment. The Trail truly provides, just as the saying goes.

Carly Brunault

Coming home after six months on the Appalachian Trail was one of the hardest parts. Post-trail depression hit me like a wave. After living freely in the woods, walking every day with a clear purpose, returning to “normal” life felt empty and confusing. There were many tearful days of feeling lost again. But I poured all that energy into finishing my book, Trail Name Tales.

Over time, the sadness softened, replaced by gratitude. The Trail didn’t erase my pain, it transformed it. It gave me purpose, community, and peace I never thought I’d feel again. I’m forever grateful for every person I met, every story I heard, every white blaze I passed by, and each step I took through those old, challenging and beautiful mountains.
The Appalachian Trail changed everything. It reconnected me to myself, to others, and to the world. Even years later, I still feel the Trail’s quiet magic working its way through my life, reminding me every day: the Trail provides.

Carly Brunault

Judy Gentz’s Story

My husband, Skinz, and I began our A.T. journey in early March 2019. Having both retired in 2018, this was our first big adventure. Little did I know that the A.T. would give me an invaluable gift. Our oldest son was killed in action in Afghanistan on June 9, 2010. It was devastating to everyone in our family. I had both an emotional and physical reaction to this loss that I can only describe as a void felt in my heart. It was always there. I knew I was grieving and always would grieve our son. Grief is not linear—it is a never ending roller coaster of emotions.

I think from day one on the A.T. to the day that I was standing on the Katahdin sign, I allowed myself to fully express my longing for my son. There are many tears on the A.T. that fell silently from my face to the earth. I shared my grief and sense of loss with my husband as we hiked, with the tramily we formed along the way, and with God. I felt safe letting my my tears fall to the Trail and allowing the Trail to literally absorb them. Since hiking the A.T., I have embarked on other journeys, and I still leave my grief on the Trail. I suppose as long as I hike and allow nature to heal my heart, I will leave tears on the Trail.

Carly Brunault

Take a Hike to Heal

John McGowan’s Story

I recently discovered the ATC’s “Take a Hike” effort. Wow, do I like this! The power of nature and the guidance of Mother Nature is measured in feelings, not words.

I recently finished a thru-hike of 174 miles along the Tahoe Rim Trail. I did this to heal from trauma. I needed to “take a hike” to find myself again. I also shared my journey with thousands of others that also needed to share in the healing process. I carried letters from people about their trauma or grief. In the end, I burned these letters as a symbol of letting go.

The Take a Hike effort resonates with me because the hike saved my life, literally. I tear up now thinking about how Mother Nature revealed her nurturing self to save a soul.

John McGowan

Ten themes of healing I developed while hiking:

Be in the moment.
Give yourself grace…you are human.
Find your strength within.
Be resilient.
Permit yourself to experience emotion.
Face your fears.
Don’t be scared to be uncomfortable; stretch yourself.
Make noise in life; you have a voice.
Forgive yourself before forgiving others.
Let go of the things that harm you or hinder your growth.

John McGowan

Each step on the trail tells a story. For some, it’s a story of joy and discovery. For others, it’s a story of loss, endurance, or renewal. These stories serve as a reminder that trails are more than simple footpaths—they’re lifelines.

The hikers who shared their journeys here found strength and solace in the same mountains, forests, and valleys that connect us all. Their stories redefine what it means to “take a hike”—not to walk away from the world, but to walk through it with hope.

Join us at takeahikepetition.org and help us change the meaning of “take a hike” to reflect the ways that hiking can help us heal.