Welcome back to Just Ruck It—I’m your host, Lindsay, and today I’ve got another adventure recap that’s part story, part milestone, and all grit.

Since 2023 I’ve been slowly piecing together one of my biggest personal challenges yet: the ROC Rail-to-Trail Trifecta. That’s 32 miles connecting three of our local trail systems—the Genesee Valley Greenway, the Lehigh Valley Trail, and the Auburn Trail—starting right in Rochester and ending in Victor passing through 8 towns along the way.

It took me far longer than I anticipated but my personal journey along the way made for a great adventure.

This story has little bit of everything: solo miles, surprise trail companions, phone fails, and that surreal moment when you realize the finish line is just the beginning of something bigger.

Whether you’re thinking about taking on your own long-distance challenge or just want to hear how a regular person strung together some not-so-glamorous miles—this episode is for you.

Grab your pack, tighten those laces, and let’s hit start on the GPS.

Why did I pick this massive 32 miles over 3 counties of adventure? 

Three trails—the Genesee Valley Greenway, the Lehigh Valley Trail, and the Auburn Trail—have all recently gotten some love. They're finally connected, accessible, and just begging for someone to take them on start to finish. And it seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Originally, I planned to do the whole thing on horseback. I run the Rochester Trail Riders equestrian group and it seemed like the perfect fit.

But here’s the irony: I wasn’t fit enough to do it. Not even on a horse.

People think horseback riding is just sitting there while the horse does the work, but those of us who ride know the truth—miles in the saddle wear on your body just like rucking does. Maybe more so. And when I started out, I realized real fast that if I couldn’t walk it, I wasn’t going to ride it either.

So I adjusted. I dismounted and rucked alongside my horse. And then... I just kept rucking.

Bit by bit, I chipped away at the trail. One section at a time. Sometimes with friends, sometimes solo. And those miles? They didn’t just get me from point A to point B—they changed me. Mentally, physically, emotionally.

I’m stronger. I weigh less. I’ve built stamina. And yeah, I can now ride my horses more balanced and comfortably too. That original horseback goal? It’s still on the horizon, and I’ll get there. But first, I needed to build the engine.

And rucking gave me that.

4. The Journey – 

I started at the northern most point, the City of Rochester at the Genesee Valley Park. This part of the trail has a bit of a gritty charm to it. Urban edges, paved trail, loud planes overhead, and highway underpasses. But it’s also history. What once was a canal to connect from Rochester to the Allegany River quickly transformed to a rail line as technology advanced.  It advanced itself right out of rise with the automobile and you can feel the layers of history underfoot.

I didn’t do this section alone. My friend Kim—fellow rider, trail enthusiast, and one of the few people who says “yes” when I text her, “Wanna do something stupid?”—agreed to join me. We set out on horseback but let me tell you… this leg was work.

Not because of the horses, but because the trail had us weaving through traffic, under overpasses, and past a live firefighter training burn, complete with lights, flames and powerful hoses.  You can’t make this stuff up. It was trial by fire—literally.

As we left the city behind, the trail started to open up, the noise faded, colorful trees lined the path and a scheduled lunch stop in Scottsville.  From there the trail gave way to a very long unbroken stretch to Avon.  It’s along this stretch that the Greenway meets up with Lehigh Valley Trail at the Wadsworth Junction. And while we would continue south toward Avon on this trip, I made a mental note: Next time I’d see that intersection, I’d be approaching it on foot. 

Looking back now, that first leg was the hardest—both physically and mentally. It was disjointed, noisy, and stressful at times. But there’s a lesson in that: even when the start is hard and loud and messy, if you keep going, you’ll find peace and quiet.

⚫ Lehigh Valley Trail (Middle Miles, Solo)

Almost a year went by before I picked up the challenge again.

In that time, frustration set in. Then malaise. Then grief. Deep, heavy, gut-punching grief. The kind that makes your body feel like stone and your soul like smoke. A person should never have to bury as much as I’ve had to. But each morning I wake and then set with the sun.

After failing to summit Mt. Jo—I knew I had to change something. I went back to what I knew: one step at a time. Forward. No fanfare. No expectations. Just motion.

I set my sights back onto the Lehigh Valley Trail—a trail that’s just under 16 miles but felt unobtainable. I didn’t do it in one swoop and broke it down into three section hikes, each with its own having its own adventure, challenges and triumphs.

Section 1 was from Caledonia to Rush, a mix of woods, graffiti-tagged underpasses, and long trestle bridges. I passed old rail signs and forgotten relics, river crossings, and stretches so still it felt like the world had paused to let me breathe. That calm was almost broken by what I now call The Incident. Let’s just say... if you’re new to rucking, don’t experiment with a new protein drink when you’re 3 miles from the nearest bathroom

Despite that chaos, I finished farther than planned, thanks to my husband who played Uber so I could do a one-way trek instead of an out and back. At the time, five miles with a light 10-pound pack was near my limit—but it lit a spark.

Section 2—Rush to Mendon—is still one of my favorites. The trail opens wide, Honeyoe Creek meanders beside you, and Mendon Station shows up with its preserved rail history, picnic tables, and signs that remind you this used to be an energetic hub. I met strangers who stopped to ask what rucking was. And instead of collapsing into my car at the end, I walked intentional circles in the parking lot, just to end on a perfect round number on my GPS. I didn’t want it to stop.

By Section 3, I felt stronger—so I went for the out-and-back. No pickup. Just me, the pack, and a doubled time on trail. This stretch moved from quaint to… well, boring. Industrial parks, wide asphalt shoulders, and shade that only came from utility pole shadows. The trail lost some of its charm as it entered Victor. But I kept moving, crossed over the Auburn Trail, and pressed on to Lehigh Crossing Park, where I stopped for a snack and a reflection.

And something shifted on the return.

The world woke up. Walkers, runners, bikers, even a craft fair began to dot the edges of the trail like sparks of life in a place that had felt abandoned just an hour earlier. It was no longer just a stretch of miles—it was community. I felt connected again.

🟣 Auburn Trail (Final 4 miles)

The last leg of the Trifecta was the Auburn Trail—and it felt like the victory lap, even though I still had miles to cover.

I picked it up at Lehigh Crossing Park, where I had last stopped on the Lehigh Valley. The path ahead was familiar, yet new. I’d been on this trail before, but never as the final piece of something bigger. 

This wasn’t just about logging miles anymore. It was about proving something to myself: that I finish what I start.

I had put out a post asking if anyone wanted to join me for the last stretch. I figured a few folks might be up for it—but most of my crew had other plans or weren’t ruck-ready at 7am on a Saturday. Can’t say I blame them. That early morning start hits different.

But then, a surprise: a friend offered her rucking buddy, Patrick, to join me for the final stretch. She literally said, “I’ll loan you Patrick.” And what a gift that was.

We set off together in the cool morning air, chatting about everything and nothing, easing into a rhythm. The trail was straight, quiet, and honestly… kind of boring. There’s not much scenery. It’s flat and rail-grade predictable. But good company made it move faster than I expected.

That is, until I reached for my phone to snap a photo of a beautiful little brook and realized… it wasn’t there.

Gone.

Cue internal panic—but play it cool. I tapped my Apple Watch and pinged the device. Four miles behind us. Either in the car or left in the one place I took a quick squat behind a barrier. Either way, I was further away from it than I was the finish line of the trip.

Patrick, bless him, might’ve panicked more than I did. But we laughed it off, shouldered the weight, and kept going.

At the end of the trail, we set down our packs—25 lbs each—and Patrick, in true MVP fashion, pulled out a printed copy of the ROC Trifecta badge and snapped a proper trail end photo. That moment hit me hard. Thirty-two miles. Completed in sections, over a year, with everything from grief to joy carried on my back and a new friendship for a cherry topping moment.

I started this challenge barely able to do five miles with a light pack. I finished it cruising through eight miles and 3x the weight with energy to spare.

The phone? Sitting safe in the car, on the charger. Typical.

I’m still waiting for my real patch in the mail—but honestly? I don’t need it to know what I accomplished. The ROC Rail-to-Trail Trifecta wasn’t just a hike or a ruck. It was a reclamation. Of strength. Of momentum. Of purpose.

And now that it’s done?

Well, I’m not slowing down anytime soon. After completing the ROC Rail-to-Trail Trifecta, I realized how many local gems I still haven’t fully explored. My new goal? Mastering all the big county parks near me. That means rucking five or more miles at each participating park, through every season and every kind of weather. 

This one’s especially close to my heart because it’s not just about logging miles—it’s about trail stewardship, showing up for public lands, and supporting spaces that support us. I’ll drop the full details in the show notes if you want to check it out. And if you’re near Rochester, New York and want to take it on with me—let’s go.

Your Turn: Find Your Challenge

And now I want to toss that weight right back to you.

What’s your next challenge?

Maybe it’s not a trifecta. Maybe it’s rucking your first 5K. Maybe it’s getting out twice a week. Maybe it’s finishing a route that’s been in your AllTrails app for far too long. You don’t need a fancy patch or a printed certificate. You just need a reason, a little grit, and a willingness to keep showing up.

So take this as your nudge: go find your own trail, your own why, and your own finish line. And I want to hear about it.

Head over to Instagram and tell me about the challenge you're taking on—use the hashtag #JustRuckItChallenge and tag @justruckingit. Whether it’s a sunrise solo ruck or a muddy mess with your dog, I want to see it.

You can also drop your “why” on the Just Ruck It Substack—we’re collecting listener voice messages to feature in upcoming episodes. This show is about the whole journey—not just mine.

This trifecta didn’t just take me 32 miles, it took me from burnout to belief, from stuck to steady. It reminded me that the hardest step is just deciding to start—and the rest, as always, is one foot in front of the other.

Thanks for joining me on this one.

And remember, Life, is Rucking wonderful – when you commit to the challenge.