Day 16: The trail knew what it needed

Today was the first day in a long time where I really started to feel like myself again.

Not at all. Not all at once. But enough.

The heaviness I had been carrying for the past few days had not disappeared, but it was no longer as strong in my chest. For the first time since I received the news from my dad, I felt something other than sadness.

And honestly, that felt like progress.

My morning started with a trip back to Cold Spring Shelter because I had made the very smart decision to not bring enough water the night before.

While I was there, I also used the toilet.

Normally I wouldn’t dedicate an entire section of a blog post to a toilet, but this one deserves it.

The shelter’s toilet faces directly onto the trail and contains some really crazy graffiti about people watching you poop.

Exactly the kind of thing you want to read while feeling vulnerable.

However, for the first time in days I laughed.

And honestly, that little giggle was exactly what I needed.

The morning quickly turned into a long climb.

And then another climb.

And then, somehow, another rise.

I finally arrived rocky baldwhich is located slightly away from the Appalachian Trail.

The extra walk was worth it.

The views stretched on forever, layers of blue mountains disappearing into the distance. I sat there for a while taking it all in.

Maybe it was because he was already excited. Maybe it was because of everything that had happened recently.

But being there, I felt close to my dad.

Not in a sad way.

Just…close.

As if I was somehow part of the mountains that surrounded me.

Not long after leaving Rocky Bald, I met an angel named Pastor Steve.

He asked me if I was hiking.

I told him yes.

His face lit up.

«I have something you’re going to like.»

And he was absolutely right.

It came out:

• a nice orange






• A Hershey bar






• A packet of hot chocolate

Honestly, hikers can be purchased with surprising ease.

Pastor Steve told me he keeps a prayer list for hikers and prays for them every day. He said he already had about 150 hikers on the list this season.

Then he asked me if he could pray for me.

Of course I said yes.

While we were talking, I mentioned that my dad had passed away just a few days before.

And I’ll be honest: I cried.

Again.

At this point, crying on the Appalachian Trail is basically becoming one of my hobbies.

But the moment of meeting him seemed impossible to ignore.

Whether you believe in faith, coincidence, divine intervention, or something else entirely, I felt exactly what I needed in that moment.

A reminder that people care.

A reminder that kindness exists.

A reminder that maybe everything was going to be okay.

Fueled by prayer, chocolate and citrus, I continued climbing towards wesser soon.

At the top there is another fire tower.

This one, however, is significantly more incomplete than the one at Albert Mountain.

The top is open air, the structure creaks a little, and overall it looks like the kind of place your life insurance company would prefer you didn’t hang out.

Naturally, I loved it.

I spread out my festive blanket and soaked up as much sun as possible.

The last few days had been cloudy, cold and wet, and he desperately missed the sun.

You can take the girl out of Key West.

You can’t take Key West away from the girl.

While relaxing in the tower, I ate my orange and discovered that the Hershey’s bar had completely melted.

At first I considered it a tragedy.

Then I realized I had accidentally created chocolate fondue.

Fit. Get over.

Since I knew Narwhale and Dread Pirate were walking towards me, I spent more time wandering around the tower reading my Kindle and pretending to be sophisticated.

Finally I saw familiar faces approaching down the trail.

And honestly?

Seeing them immediately improved my mood.

One thing I have learned here is that people become as important as miles.

Maybe even more important.

The three of us went down to Bald Wesser Shelterwhere I found a pretty decent tent site.

Was it level?

No.

Was it flatter than some of the places I’ve slept recently?

Absolutely.

At this point my standards are declining rapidly.

The outhouse was also considerably more private than the Cold Spring Shelter setup, which seemed like a great luxury.

I even had to take a photo.

The mountains were beautiful.

Finally the weather was good.

I have a trace of magic.

I have sun.

I met with friends.

And for the first time in days I felt something other than grief.

It’s not that the pain had gone away.

It wasn’t.

But eventually I felt there was room for other things too.

And that felt like a pretty good victory.