Introduction

About Pathways

Appalachian Trail

Why Walk?

Make a Pledge

Hiking Schedule

Journal

Photos

Links

Acknowledgements

April 27, 2001

The more I succeed in clearing my head, the more thoughts come rushing in. Just when I decide that I don't care, all of the things that I care about come back in a new light. I'm thinking about people I've met on trail and the lessons they may have for me. All of these realizations are fine (like I'm going to put them in an online journal) but will I be able to put them to use? I hope that I'm getting close to having it sorted out in my mind. Next would be transferring it to real life.

Today was a beautiful and serene day. I hiked along a ridge all afternoon with views of lakes and quaint homesteads. The trail was lined with tufts of grass as it wound between stands of maples. I hiked only about five and a half miles before taking a 2 hour lunch break. I was motivated by a comfy seat and vista, as well as not wanting to catch up with Groundhog and the Shiners, who were all taking the Damascus challenge and hiking 40 miles today. Instead I wrote letters to Kevin and Double-Time. I hiked the remaining 10 miles nonstop after lunch. Tomorrow I will hike a marathon—the remaining 26 miles into the land of beer and pizza. It will be my biggest mile day yet. I've been waiting to do this for weeks. I even carbed up with mac-n-cheese.

While I hiked today, I listened to planes soar overhead and watched violets wriggle and grow. The hum of a plane passing overhead reminds me of playing in the fields outside at home and brings me back to the trail I'm walking. Violets in the sunshine remind me of Grandma and Easter on Prairie Street. Memories start to pour back then. Picking flowers for Mom, Mother's Days of old and new, playing on the playground when I was five, singing with the birds.

I'm listening to a tree creak as if it wants to let go of its roots and lay down on the forest floor to rest. I think of things that I never wrote, like watching the rain make the underbrush wink and nod, watching the wind make the bows sway, brush dance, and single leaves tumult in a whirling dervish only they can hear. At the shelter tonight, I'm staying with Hummingbird again. I really like her. She tried to save a baby mouse tonight by feeding it GORP.

If I had a column due at the Citizen-Times now, I don't know what I would tell them. Maybe I'd tell them that I like walking alone, having freedom to sit with my thoughts, that this is one of a handful of times when I felt like I was doing exactly what I want only for me. I'm already wondering how to transfer the peace I feel out here to a life with responsibility. I'm still able to calm myself by looking at the beauty around me. Walking is second nature now. Sometimes my eyes focus; sometimes they do not. Like a hamster on his wheel, my legs turn my brain. It's easier to think when I walk. With so much alone time, I'm bound to have a few good thoughts. People are still telling me to breathe. It's not the walking, but the doing for myself and listening to myself that is making me stronger.