From Spirit's perspective...
I was feeling blue. Steady had started hiking for the day. Although we were meeting in the evening, I missed his company. I was also thinking back to the hiking friends who had stood us up for dinner last night. Another missed opportunity for good conversation. And my ankle hurt so much when I got up this morning, I couldn't walk. Another lonely day loomed ahead of me.
When Steady returned from his decent of Mt. Moosilauke last night, he spoke of the rugged beauty of the trail. He spoke of creeks, waterfalls and boulders cascading down the steep mountain face. It's one of the most beautiful sections of the trail, he said. He urged me to try the hike up the trail. But we both knew it was dangerous for my weak ankle. The blues today also came from thinking of all the sections of the trail that I would never share with him.
While eating my breakfast I knew that the only way to shake these feelings were to get out on the trail. I had done a few 2 hour out and back hikes from trailheads. I'd even completed a four mile loop. Each time I felt more whole, more refreshed. So I overcame my hesitation, laced up my hiking shoes, picked up my outriggers (hiking poles) and stepped out of the RV. I decided to hike an hour and see how far that would take me.
Within the first few hundred feet I got my shoes wet and muddy from a stream crossing. Good, one less thing I have to worry about. I'm already dirty.
The trail progressed easily with only minor rocks and tree roots to remind me that I'm on the AT. I was enjoying the fresh breeze and the soft green light filtering through the dense canopy of trees. I felt nimble striding over streams and crossing rough wooden bridges.
I met two day hikers coming down the trail towards me. We discussed the warnings on the sign posted on the tree in front of us. "This trail is extremely tough. If you lack experience please use another trail. Take special care at the cascades to avoid tragic results." The hikers confirmed the warning, saying that they would not like to make the descent during the anticipated afternoon rain. With their wishes for a safe hike, I walked on.
The trail immediately got steeper. My outriggers served me well in navigating the almost vertical rock stairs. I had fleeting thoughts that I didn't earn the right to be here. I hadn't done the 1800 miles to get here. My legs weren't strong and my ankle might not hold me up. But I put those doubts aside as I reached the first waterfall.
Joy erupted as I sat on the smooth granite bank in the midst of the cascade. Breathing in the sound and the force of the water washed away the blues. Ahh, have I reached my destination for the day? Surely this is enough. Naw, that familiar spirit to see what's around the next bend overtook me.
I didn't think that the trail could get any steeper, but it did. I was rewarded with ever more waterfalls, unseen until I scaled the next rock face. When I reached a vertical face with three rebar loops to assist in the climb, I paused for a moment. Shortening the length of my poles, I started the ascent. Carefully placing each foothold, I hoisted myself up until I reached a rocky ledge 20 feet above.
With a limited view of the distant mountains through the treetops, I sat next to the stream in peaceful contemplation. I had walked an hour and was satisfied that I had truly reached my destination. It was okay that the mountaintop and waterfalls above were out of my reach. With gratitude that such natural beauty exists, I started my descent.
I walked taller and with a surer foot on my return. Taller, not because I had conquered a steep trail or my doubts. Taller, because I was infused with the spirit of the forest in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.
