Rebecca Sperry

The hikers of New Hampshire are bonafide list-o-holics. There are well over a dozen different lists that hikers work on completing but some are more popular than others. Arguably the most common hiking list is the New Hampshire 48 4000’ers list. This list is comprised of the 48 tallest peaks in New Hampshire. Perhaps one of the least common lists was known as red lining until 2020 (now it is officially referred to as trails). The point of “red lining”, “trails”, or as I call it, “tracing” is to hike all of the trails in a specific edition of the White Mountain Guidebook. Since 2019, I have been hyper-focused on tracing.

As of writing this post, there are under 90 people who have completed this feat officially. The 30th edition of the White Mountain Guidebook has roughly 653 individually named trails, over 1,400 miles, and the goal is simple: hike all of them along with any spurs (with mileage listed) to views, campsites/shelters, and springs. Normally, people spend years (some even take an entire lifetime) to accomplish this goal. It is incredibly niche and there is a lot of controversy about attempting to complete tracing fast. 

When I found out about tracing in 2019, I polled the Facebook group to find out if anyone had ever completed the entire guidebook in a set amount of time - specifically a year. Why a year? Because a year is a pretty common unit of measurement, in my opinion. This question led me to a post about a young man who, in 2013, completed hiking all the trails in 193 days. It also raised some eyebrows among the very small group of hikers who are working on, or have finished tracing.

Why would anyone want to rush through this attempt, people wondered. It’s meant to be a lifelong adventure. It’s supposed to be something you don’t rush through. If people start working on this hiking goal, it will bring too many people to the areas in the White Mountains that are seldom visited. It will ruin those trails and those are our secret. 

After a young man who is well known in The Whites hiked all of the trails in less than 100 days in 2020, (and then hiked all of the trails again in 2021 and a third time in 2022, in a single summer season) the ability to do what seemed to be impossible became possible. For me, though, the point was never to hike all of the trails the fastest or to set an FKT (Fastest Known Time) which I would unintentionally do if I completed my attempt as the first known woman to do so in a set amount of time. The point was to spend as much time as possible hiking. To have a specific and tangible beginning and end date for when I hiked all of the trails in The Whites. And, to see if I could hike them all in a year (a year, just because that was the time frame I picked one day in fall, 2019).

After getting diagnosed with cancer 34 days into my attempt, my perspective about time changed. Now, 90 days into my second attempt, I feel, at times, frustrated that people still think you have all the time in the world to complete your goals. They want to know why we rush towards completion, but what I want to know is this: How much time do you think I have?

I was diagnosed with cancer at 37. I had no family history and no genetic markers predisposing me to cancer. I was in the best shape and health of my life. I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer that a decade ago would’ve been a death sentence. The director of surgery sat me down and told me flat out, “this will kill you” when I was still in denial about the severity of my diagnosis.

I don’t have the luxury of time. Ever since my diagnosis and spending 19 months in active treatment (then choosing to stop treatment 5 years early) I live between six month scans. I don’t know if my cancer will come back. Ending treatment early has doubled my risk of recurrence, and until I reach 5 years NED (No Evidence of Disease) my risk of recurrence is a very real thing. 

There is no such thing as a guaranteed future for any of us beyond the moment we are in. I try to cram a lifetime worth of experiences between my scans. I don’t have the luxury of time. Do any of us? 

As hikers, we choose to live our lives in high definition. I would say, in general, thru-hikers are more likely to sacrifice luxuries and financial security in order to travel and explore. They live by the phrase, “Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that damn mountain” (Jack Kerouac) and as an AYA (Adolescent/Young Adult) cancer survivor, I couldn’t agree more.

I’m sorry that I am rushing through a goal that some people think should take a lifetime to complete, I don’t have a lifetime. I don’t know if I have another 6 months. Do you? Can you say with certainty that you won’t get a cancer diagnosis out of nowhere, with no family history, and when you’re in the best shape of your life? Can you be sure that you have dozens and dozens of years left?

Live your life now. Live each day as if you could lose everything tomorrow (because you could, I did). Live as if you are not going to have forever to do everything (because you won’t have forever). Stop worrying about things like what kind of carpet you’re going to install in your living room, stop thinking that you can wait until you retire to go on the big trip, and please stop assuming that other people who choose to live life in high definition are rushing through it. Maybe we are rushing through it because we don’t have much of it left. 

I think about the 19 year old girl that I had as a student who passed away from cancer two weeks after her 19th birthday. I think about how she wanted to be an interior designer. I think about how she chose to have seven organs removed, her entire anatomy rearranged, because she wanted so badly to live. She only made it another six months after that surgery. Can you imagine what that must’ve been like? Do you really think that you have all the time in the world? I’m sure she did before her diagnosis at 16. 

Please stop assuming you have all the time in the world, and go live in high definition.