Me, I hopped, skipped and jumped for about 460 miles before I had to call it a day and go back home to stew in the sad fact that I hadn't the vacation time or disposable income to finish the trail. It was, to paraphrase that once great commander and chief of this great nation of ours, Franklin D. Roosevelt, a day that will "live in infamy". Or not. ANYway.........I slogged thru aforementioned mucho miliage with my five ton backpack which I had the great good fortune and sense to trade in for a lighter one in the mud and the blood (well, yes, I did bleed from my blisters and raw spots, tyvm) and cold freezing rain and other such trials and tribulations to report to you fine novice fellow backpackers that YES, it was DAMN hard, and although, technically, it WAS walking, it wasn't JUST walking, it was walking with a capital W. The kind of walking that subtracts a good eighth of your body weight, which coming off a small person who doesn't have that much weight to begin with, can be somewhat HIGH impact as opposed to low impact, which "just walking" would imply. It also hurts. As in provides plenty of PAIN. The kind of pain that hauling that heavy backpack full of things you shouldn't have put on your back if ONLY you'd known better BEFOREHAND up the side of mountains and back down again in a kind of "controlled crashland" that takes it's toll on your tendons and ligaments and muscles and other body parts which scream at you, especially at the end of those long LONG days, "what in the HELL are you DOING to us????!!!!" to which you have no answer until......well, until those spiritual moments that answer that question. Yea, just walking. "Just" being relative. It's ALL relative.