I have a friend, Jason, who has hiked the Appalachian Trail with his brother. A little over ten years ago when I started the first job that would sustain the kids and I alone, I met Jason. He is a leader that I can follow. Quiet. Thoughtful. Focused. Fair. Early in that job, he loaned a book to me called, A Walk in the Woods, which evoked the first cathartic belly laugh in such a long time.
Written by Bill Bryson, it is his misadventures of hiking the Appalachian Trail – in part with his Snicker munching childhood friend, Katz. And it was just what I needed; a great cheeky story and laughter that made it hard to breathe and reminded me of hope.
Reading that book began a slow climb out of a deep, deep well.
I had hiked in high school and after graduation – even going three weeks into Berchesgarten and Austria with something called, Project Bold. It was me, two other girls, a slew of miscreants, a guy from Bahrain who should be doing stand up somewhere, a gentle soul, Bryan, our fearless leader, Brad Udall, and his calm assistant, Ramie. Reading A Walk in the Woods reminded me of those other tough climbs, terrifying leaps, cold mornings, and an unexpected ability to endure or – as my dad would say – Drive On. It also made me laugh loudly and often…in the middle of City Hall.
"Walk" has become one of my favorite "go to" books. I recommend it, read it in bits and pieces, refer to it, and even mentioned it again today to a friend. Yes, she'd read it and she had also hiked part of the Appalachian Trail or "AT" to those in the know (now you know). Besides the snakes and bears, she said that there are certain unofficial sections of the trail called Blue Blazes that take the hiker off-trail and ambling into the green unknown.
And then she said, "most people don't ever get off the trail into the Blue Blazes, but that is where the most fun is." Bears, snakes, Deliverance…and Blue Blazes. (Where in the Blue Blazes is…?)
I've thought about what she said all day. Just hearing about the Blue Blazes has reignited a desire to attempt a full or partial hike of the Appalachian Trail.
I cannot live my life just wishing, dreaming, or talking it up. I must attempt it – despite the bears, snakes, or banjos.
The risks are worth it.
The safety is a lie.
It's relative really. I can choose to avoid the potential dangers of the AT and live life in the lowlands only to be hit by a trucker hauling chickens and spewing feathers. I can plan, invite friends, prepare, finagle, and gear up with the latest solar gadgets and the future will still be wholly unknowable out there in the hills.
Or I can hide out in the all-too-familiar-fear and miss it all – the high places, vistas, effort, strain, meetings, partings, and trail magic.
Sadly, it is so tempting to stay low.
But I can't. Past experience tells me that I'm terrible at planning these sorts of things, but one or more of you aren't. I'm good at staying excited and on course and being resourceful. Let's go.
Let's go before we are gumming our food and wishing we had gone to see the ridges, the blue mountain majesties, waterfalls, and to meet the people along the trail.
Let's do all we can to not get eaten, bitten, infected, poisoned, and chased…as we prepare for our some-day-coming trip along the AT. It's a jungle out here – long before we ever hit Springer Mountain with eyes to the north.
I'll pack what you tell me to in my pink hiking pack. Let's go, before we forget how to dream and our legs won't carry us anymore. Let's go before the dreams and our memories fade into ether.
Blog Bonus: Downloadable map of the Appalachian Trail
Double Blog Bonus: Dueling Banjos a la' carte; a montage of Dueling tubas, mandolins, electric guitars, high school bands, and some guy in a KU Jayhawk shirt (that figures).
