Ava Outdoor Adventures 🏔

A New Chapter Begins

There’s something about standing at the edge of a new trail that feels both terrifying and electric. In 2026, I return to the Appalachian Trail—this time to Georgia—for the next section of a journey that has already changed me in ways I’m still discovering.

Georgia isn’t just another state on the map. It’s the official southern gateway to the Appalachian Trail, home to Springer Mountain, where dreams, doubts, and determination all meet. For many, it’s the beginning. For me, it’s a continuation—a chance to keep walking forward, one intentional step at a time.

Why Georgia, Why Now

After completing previous sections of the AT, I learned that this trail isn’t just about miles or summits. It’s about healing, clarity, and meeting yourself exactly where you are. Each state has mirrored a different season of my life, and Georgia feels like a call to grounding and renewal.

This section hike is about more than checking off another state. It’s about reconnecting with my purpose, testing my resilience, and honoring how far I’ve already come—on trail and off.

What I’m Looking Forward To

• Rolling ridgelines and misty mornings in the southern Appalachians

• Iconic spots like Springer Mountain, Blood Mountain, and Neels Gap

• Quiet trail conversations and unexpected connections

• Long climbs that challenge my body and long silences that steady my mind

Georgia is known for its early-season challenges—steep ascents, unpredictable weather, and those first real trail legs. I welcome all of it. The discomfort has always been part of the transformation.

Lessons I’m Carrying With Me

From Massachusetts and the states before it, the trail taught me patience, humility, and the power of slowing down. I’m heading into Georgia with a lighter pack—not just physically, but emotionally. I’m learning to release expectations and let the trail meet me where I am.

Support the Journey

To my friends, family, and supporters—thank you for being part of this journey. As I prepare to hike my 7th of 14 states along the Appalachian Trail, your encouragement means more than you know. Section hiking takes planning, persistence, and resources, and the biggest costs are always transportation to and from the trail and essential gear that keeps me safe and moving forward.

If you’ve ever followed along, shared a kind word, or asked how you can help—this is how this journey becomes possible. Your support helps cover travel logistics, replaces worn gear, and allows me to focus on the trail itself: the miles, the lessons, and the growth that happens between each step.

Every contribution, message, and show of support fuels this adventure and reminds me that I never walk alone.

Looking Ahead

This 2026 Georgia section hike is another step toward a bigger vision—one rooted in adventure, self-trust, and community. Whether the days are filled with sunshine or rain, strong miles or tough moments, I know this: every step forward is a victory.

Here’s to new trails, familiar lessons, and the courage to keep going.

See you on the trail.

2026 Appalachian Trail: Georgia Section Hike

A New Chapter Begins

There’s something about standing at the edge of a new trail that feels both terrifying and electric. In 2026, I return to the Appalachian Trail—this time to Georgia—for the next section of a journey that has already changed me in ways I’m still discovering.

Georgia isn’t just another state on the map. It’s the official southern gateway to the Appalachian Trail, home to Springer Mountain, where dreams, doubts, and determination all meet. For many, it’s the beginning. For me, it’s a continuation—a chance to keep walking forward, one intentional step at a time.

Why Georgia, Why Now

After completing previous sections of the AT, I learned that this trail isn’t just about miles or summits. It’s about healing, clarity, and meeting yourself exactly where you are. Each state has mirrored a different season of my life, and Georgia feels like a call to grounding and renewal.

This section hike is about more than checking off another state. It’s about reconnecting with my purpose, testing my resilience, and honoring how far I’ve already come—on trail and off.

What I’m Looking Forward To

• Rolling ridgelines and misty mornings in the southern Appalachians

• Iconic spots like Springer Mountain, Blood Mountain, and Neels Gap

• Quiet trail conversations and unexpected connections

• Long climbs that challenge my body and long silences that steady my mind

Georgia is known for its early-season challenges—steep ascents, unpredictable weather, and those first real trail legs. I welcome all of it. The discomfort has always been part of the transformation.

Lessons I’m Carrying With Me

From Massachusetts and the states before it, the trail taught me patience, humility, and the power of slowing down. I’m heading into Georgia with a lighter pack—not just physically, but emotionally. I’m learning to release expectations and let the trail meet me where I am.

Support the Journey

To my friends, family, and supporters—thank you for being part of this journey. As I prepare to hike my 7th of 14 states along the Appalachian Trail, your encouragement means more than you know. Section hiking takes planning, persistence, and resources, and the biggest costs are always transportation to and from the trail and essential gear that keeps me safe and moving forward.

If you’ve ever followed along, shared a kind word, or asked how you can help—this is how this journey becomes possible. Your support helps cover travel logistics, replaces worn gear, and allows me to focus on the trail itself: the miles, the lessons, and the growth that happens between each step.

Every contribution, message, and show of support fuels this adventure and reminds me that I never walk alone.

Looking Ahead

This 2026 Georgia section hike is another step toward a bigger vision—one rooted in adventure, self-trust, and community. Whether the days are filled with sunshine or rain, strong miles or tough moments, I know this: every step forward is a victory.

Here’s to new trails, familiar lessons, and the courage to keep going.

See you on the trail.

We woke up to a truly magical sunrise over Upper Goose Pond. The stillness of the water and the soft glow of morning light made it one of those unforgettable trail moments 🌅. To make the morning even sweeter, the caretaker greeted us with his famous blueberry pancakes and I treated myself to a ginger latte—a perfect breakfast to fuel the day ahead.

After packing up, we hopped in with a shuttle driver who kindly took us into town. First stop: laundry. There’s nothing quite like the fresh comfort of clean clothes after days on trail 🧺. We also took the opportunity to ship some extra gear and clothing home, lightening our load for the miles to come.

The best part? Our shuttle driver offered to slack-pack us for the day. That meant we got to hike without our heavy packs—just carrying water and snacks. With the heat and humidity pressing down, it made such a difference. We flew through the trail miles, feeling a little lighter and quicker with every step 🚶‍♀️💨.

By evening, we made our way into the town of Lee. It was the perfect place to rest, recharge, and prepare for the next stretch of trail. A shower, some hydration, and the comfort of a real bed never felt so good 🛏️💧.

Day 5 was a reminder that trail life is a balance—between the tough, sweaty climbs and the little luxuries that make the journey so worth it.

Day 4

We left Blueberry Hill at 5:30 a.m., hoping to catch the sunrise. It turned into what I’ll call a mushrooms and cobwebs Wednesday—the kind of morning where the trail feels quiet and magical.

By mid-day we reached Upper Goose Pond Cabin, where the caretaker welcomed us with a big smile. We were among 11 hikers staying for the night and were promised the famous blueberry pancakes in the morning.

After lunch, we took full advantage of the pond. Canoes were waiting for us, and we paddled out onto the water before jumping in for a quick swim. The water was cold—refreshing but just long enough for a shiver.

As the sun went down, we gathered around the campfire that had been built, trading stories before heading into the bunk room for the night. A warm, communal end to a long day on the trail.

Trail Magic in Dalton

We got a late start this morning. Overnight mist left our tents soaked, so first priority was to dry everything out. We headed into Dalton and grabbed lunch at Angelina’s Sub and Java Café. Each of us ordered something we loved—it hit the spot. While I relaxed, J-Black got some laundry done, which was much needed at this point in the journey.

We caught a short hitch from Levardi, a truly sweet man everyone says knows just about everything about the Appalachian Trail. Along the way, we met another northbound hiker who told us about Blueberry Hill—also known as the home of the legendary “Cookie Lady.” His enthusiasm convinced us to head that way.

When we arrived, we were welcomed with fresh cookies, and honestly, the place felt magical. Wildflowers covered the fields, and elderberries, blueberries, and raspberry bushes surrounded us—it was like stepping into a storybook. Tonight, we’re staying in a hanger on the property, soaking in the peace and comfort after a long day.

As I reflect, I realize that the generosity of the people along the trail is what keeps drawing me back. It’s more than just hiking; it’s a community built on kindness and love.

We broke camp early at 6 a.m., ready to take on the climb up Mt. Greylock. The ascent was long and strenuous—3.4 miles of steady climbing—but step by step we made it.

When we finally reached the summit, the views took my breath away. I didn’t climb the memorial tower, but I wandered the grounds like a tourist, soaking in the moment. Sadly, the lodge was closed, but fortune smiled when we stopped by the TV station nearby. The kind workers there let us use the restroom and even shared protein bars to help fuel our hike—a little trail magic right at the top of Massachusetts.

Mt. Greylock is not only the highest peak in the state but also one of the tallest in the Taconic Range. Its summit is marked by a 93-foot-tall lighthouse-style tower, built in 1931 as a war memorial. The wide grassy area is dotted with benches and paths, inviting visitors to pause and take in the sweeping landscapes.

From the summit, you don’t even need to climb the tower to enjoy incredible views: to the northeast, Mount Monadnock rises out of southern New Hampshire; to the west, the Catskills stretch across New York; and to the north, the Taconic Range and Vermont’s Green Mountains roll endlessly.

After a good rest at the summit, we pushed on and made our way to Father Tom Campsite in the town of Cheshire. It turned out to be one of the nicest stops so far—plenty of open space, water, electricity, and even bikes for hikers to ride into town.

Unfortunately, most of the restaurants had already closed by the time we settled in. Dinner ended up being a trail classic: three tuna packs with noodles. It might not sound glamorous, but after the long climb, it tasted perfect. A quick shower, a full stomach, and I was more than ready for sleep.

Day 1: Vermont to Wilbur Clearing Shelter

The journey began early this morning at 7:21 a.m., setting out from Vermonton Country Road, just three miles north of the Massachusetts–Vermont border. The cool air and quiet road made the first stretch feel like a gentle welcome before the trail revealed its challenges.

About three miles in, I officially crossed into Massachusetts—a moment that felt both exciting and symbolic. One state behind me, a whole new section ahead.

Not long after, I dropped into town for a quick resupply. I refilled water, enjoyed some unexpected trail magic (protein bars and nuts left behind by kind strangers), and treated myself to a stop at AJ’s Trail Side Pub. A veggie burger and fries never tasted so good after those early miles!

Back on trail, the climb to Mount Prospect Ledge rewarded me with a stunning view—rolling hills stretching endlessly under a clear sky. It was the kind of moment that reminds you why you carry the weight of a pack and keep pushing forward.

By evening, I reached Wilbur Clearing Shelter, tired but grateful. My body begged for rest, and exhaustion won over dinner—I crawled straight into my sleeping bag.

Day 1 is complete. Vermont behind me, Massachusetts unfolding ahead

I am deeply grateful for the support I’ve received toward my upcoming backpacking journey on the Appalachian Trail in Massachusetts. 🌿✨

Because of the generosity of my sponsors, I have been able to:

🎒 Replace my backpack

💧 Secure a new water filter

🩹 Restock my first aid kit

🥗 Prepare 7 days of meals

🛏️ Replace my sleeping bag liner

Each of these essentials not only brings me closer to the trail, but also serves as a reminder that this journey is made possible by community care and shared belief in adventure, resilience, and connection with nature.

If you would like to be part of this journey, contributions can be made here: https://buymeacoffee.com/avalourossadventure 💚

#AppalachianTrail #BackpackingJourney #CommunitySupport #NatureHeals #AdventureWithPurpose

Thanks for stopping by! I’m a licensed NYS hiking and camping guide, outdoor adventurer, and the founder of TriState Hikers Inc., a nonprofit that promotes mental health awareness through hiking, camping, and backpacking.

For the past 10 years, I’ve been leading hikes, building community, and encouraging people to get outside — especially those who never thought the outdoors was for them. Four years ago, I officially launched TriState Hikers Inc. and have been volunteering my time ever since to make nature more inclusive and healing for kids, adults, and everyone in between.

🥾 What I’m Working On

Over the past 3 years, I’ve been section hiking the Appalachian Trail — and I’ve completed 5 states so far:

✅ New York

✅ New Jersey

✅ Connecticut

✅ Maryland

✅ West Virginia

My next stop? Massachusetts — an 8-day solo hike through forests, ridgelines, and personal growth. This journey is both physical and symbolic: I hike to inspire others to believe in themselves, to remind people that ordinary folks can do extraordinary things — especially with a community behind them.

🌟 How You Can Help

I’m using this page to raise support for:

Gear upgrades to stay safe and comfortable on trail Trail food for 8 days Transportation to and from the trailhead

Any “coffee” you buy here helps fuel my next adventure — and more importantly, helps me continue to share this mission with others. Whether you’re giving $5 or sharing this page, I appreciate you being part of the journey. 💚

Let’s keep walking toward something beautiful — together.

Fundraiser link-buymeacoffee.com/avalourossadventure

With gratitude,

Avalou Ross

Founder, TriState Hikers Inc.

Some hikes are about the views. Others are about the journey. My recent solo day hike in Sterling Forest State Park, New Jersey, was very much the latter — a peaceful, misty wander through foggy woods, hidden history, and surprise encounters with nature.

I arrived early to a rainy, low-visibility morning. Not ideal by typical hiking standards, but I wasn’t looking for a perfect day — I was looking for solitude, a reset, and maybe a little magic. And Sterling Forest delivered.

The trail began along the quiet shoreline of Sterling Lake, wrapped in fog so thick it felt like stepping into another time. As I moved through the forest, remnants of historic mine buildings peeked out from the trees — weathered stone walls and old foundations that whispered of the park’s industrial past. There’s something grounding about walking among these ruins, knowing that people once lived and worked in the very place I now sought quiet.

One of the unexpected joys of the hike? Newts. So many newts. Bright orange and utterly unbothered by the drizzle, they dotted the trail like tiny, fiery surprises. I paused often just to watch them — careful not to step on any — completely captivated by their slow-motion charm. Sometimes it’s the smallest wildlife that leaves the biggest impression.

The hike to the Sterling Fire Tower was a moderate climb — not too tough, but just enough to get the blood flowing. I was hoping for a rewarding view at the top, but the weather had other plans. Thick fog smothered any sightline, and to my disappointment, the fire tower itself was closed due to safety concerns. Still, the eerie stillness of the tower standing alone in the fog had its own kind of beauty.

The return route followed an old mountain road, wide and gentle, making for the easiest stretch of the 4.3-mile loop. I didn’t see another person the entire way — just me, the rain-softened path, and the hush of the woods. It was exactly the kind of quiet I didn’t realize I needed.

By the time I returned to Sterling Lake, the fog had lifted. The lake that was once a ghostly mirror was now alive with color and clarity. It felt like a gift — a parting moment of beauty I hadn’t earned on the way in, but was lucky enough to receive on the way out.

If you’re craving a hike that trades sweeping vistas for introspection and wildlife moments, Sterling Forest is worth the trip — even (or especially) on a rainy day. Come for the history, stay for the newts, and let the fog guide you somewhere unexpected.

Take A Hike!!!