Can You Do the Beehive Trail If You’re Fat and Afraid of Heights? (Spoiler: Yes.)

Not your average hike. This is the Beehive Trail at Acadia.

I don’t really know how to explain this, but…I don’t like walking. And hiking? It’s just walking, but in the woods.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I love being in the woods. The smells, the air, the peace, the space. It’s a full-body yes. But the catch is, I usually have to walk to get there. Which, as previously mentioned, is not my favorite. Still, I do it. Sometimes. Kind of.

My favorite kind of "hiking" is finding a solid boardwalk trail and calling it a day. Those make me happy. Thankfully, my wife is a damn saint and will gladly “hike” beside me on a boardwalk instead of chasing some epic summit.

So when I first heard about the Beehive Trail at Acadia National Park, I was like—meh, sounds like a hike. Not for me. But then I looked it up. Turns out…it’s less of a hike and more like an adventure course built into the side of a freaking mountain.

Spoiler: I was already having the time of my life.

There’s a little bit of wooded trail at the beginning, sure. But then suddenly you’re climbing iron rungs bolted into the rock face, scooting across narrow ledges with no railing, and stepping over giant boulders and gaps in the trail like you’re auditioning for American Ninja Warrior. And I freaking loved it.

Anne is afraid of heights, so this trail was a real challenge for her—but she crushed it. She was steady and brave and absolutely amazing the whole time. And me? I shocked the hell out of myself.

Anne, who is afraid of heights, totally crushed this trail.

Because here’s the truth: I almost didn’t do this trail. I’d already decided I couldn’t do it. Not because I didn’t want to—but because I’m fat. Somewhere along the way, I put myself into this box of things I “do” and things I “don’t do.” And hiking—especially anything with ladders, scrambling, or serious elevation gain—has always been on the don’t list. I convinced myself that trails like the Beehive weren’t made for people like me. That I’d be too slow, too out of shape, too big to fit through the tight spots or hoist myself up the ladders.

But Anne encouraged me to try. And for whatever reason that day, I said yes. And let me tell you: it was SO. FREAKING. AWESOME.

Needed a breather. Also needed to not cry from joy.

That trail was hard. Really hard. But I did it anyway. And it wasn’t just a hike—it was a moment. One of the first real times in my adult life that I looked at something I didn’t think I could do… and then did it anyway.

Not exactly a boardwalk. But we did it anyway.

Climbing the Beehive reminded me that I’m usually the one telling myself I can’t. That voice in my head? That doubt? That list of “not for me” things? That’s me. And I can choose to rewrite it. Turns out, I can do a hell of a lot more than I think I can. Turns out, I can do hard things. And turns out, sometimes I even like it.

Even the walk back felt different after that climb.