Two years ago, I had heard of the trail, but I certainly didn’t understand the scope of it, and I never dreamt of hiking the whole thing. Now here I am with 423 miles left and I’m obsessively pouring over maps and planning ahead to determine where I can stay and how far I should try to hike every weekend.
There is an unsettling rattle to my car when I drive and I may need to take it in to get looked at, but my worry isn’t about how that will affect me in my day-to-day life, but how it will affect my travel on the weekends. What if my car breaks down at the side of the road, will I have cell coverage and, more importantly, will I be able to still hike that day?
At work this week, my boss and my coworker were expressing their concern for me and this hiking endeavor of mine. They don’t like that I travel alone. They don’t like that I travel without a dog or a gun. They are convinced I’m going to die on the trail.
While I would've loved to be sarcastic or even point out that I've already finished 700 MILES mostly on my own, instead I decided to be more light-hearted with my response.
I reminded them that hiking is my passion. While there are certainly moments when I get frustrated, for the most part I love the solitude. I love the variety of environments I’m experiencing that I might not appreciate if I was with a group of people or hiking at a pace that wasn’t my own. Or trying to keep a dog out of poison ivy or from chasing squirrels. Or accidentally shooting myself in the foot because I don’t have the desire or knowledge to carry any sort of firearm when I hike.
I explained to my colleagues that if I were to die on the trail, then they could be comforted by the fact that I died doing something I love.
My boss looked at me thoughtfully and told me that if that’s how I think about it, then if I ever find her dead at a sales rack at Nordstrom’s then I can know she died happy.
My coworker chimed in, “If that’s the case, then if I were to die happy, I’d be cleaning my kitchen floors.”
To each their own.
As far as I’m concerned, thanks to my solo hikes I have a new appreciation for nature (who knew I’d one day be able to identify deer scat, wolf tracks, or the sound of sandhill cranes?). I’m staying active and seeing so many things I never would have even dreamt of: breathtaking sunrises, remote lakes, babbling brooks, trees so tall they kiss the sky.
So everyone who keeps telling me they wish I wouldn't go, are unfortunately not going to get their wish.
I have 422.9 glorious miles to go and I can’t wait.
