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My brother left to hike the Appalachian Mountains.

What came back isn't him. Written by Al J. Evans.

My brother Kevin has always been outdoorsy. Growing up, he would wander off into the woods behind my parents' property and stay out there for hours.

He said that being out in nature brought him a lot of peace.

A few months ago, things kind of spiraled for him.

He lost his girlfriend, his job, and his apartment within six weeks.

He ended up moving back home with me and my parents to try to get back up on his feet.

It was hard to see him like that. I mean, he was never someone that I would describe as an

eternal optimist, but that little spark he always had was gone.

This past spring, I found him sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of the night.

He was picking apart a piece of cold pizza, and it was the first time that I had seen him

almost eat something in days.

I told him maybe that he should go back out into nature, take

some hikes, or maybe do a solo camping weekend. I said that I had noticed that he had seen

down lately, and maybe being out in the world could help him get back to himself. In the moment,

I wasn't sure if he was really hearing me, but he took a bite of pizza, squeezed

my hand, said he loved me, and went back to his bedroom. The next morning, he announced

to my parents that he was going to hike the Appalachian Trail. My mom was hesitant,

but Kevin told her that he knew enough about himself to know that sitting at home in his room was causing more stress than if he could go out and just be in the place that made him feel the most at ease.

My dad just said that as long as Kev checked in every few days or so, he didn't see a problem with it.

My dad pointed out that it wasn't like

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