Let go, listen to the trace

Day 21

I walked 17 miles before 2 pm to get to Erwin and have enough time to enjoy the day. The first thing I saw when I arrived was Horsepower smiling on the porch of the cabin. By now I had walked longer without him than with him! It was like a little family reunion, especially because I also met his sister, Sylvia, who would be joining his walk for two weeks. More than ten hikers and I piled into the back of a Chevrolet pickup truck to resupply, eat dinner, and try to remember how to be civilized again. Horsepower and I even cracked a box of Cheez-Itz «just like old times.» Like all stays in the city, the day flew by. I blinked and got back on the road with Horsepower and Sylvia, walking in a light rain.

“This rain feels good” are the famous last words of most hikers. The rain always manages to hear your gratitude and happily offers more. With six miles to go during the day, we decided to take shelter in town in a tent as the rain intensified. Now We were reliving the old days! When the rain eased again, we hurried to the start of the first Helene turnoff and set up camp. The next morning, we walked down a gravel road thinking, «This detour isn’t so bad! What’s all the fuss about?» To add to the good start to the day, the sun finally appeared and began to dry my still damp clothes.

«Here comes the sun, do it, do it,» I began to sing to myself.

«I want to sing, but I don’t know that song,» Horsepower said.

«Haven’t the Amish approached the Beatles yet?» I joked. «You really don’t know who the Beatles are?»

«Oh, well, we swore we’d get a penny for every beetle we picked out of a potato,» he said sarcastically. «No, I never met a British beetle.»

Walking in the company of family made all the difference in the world. I was suddenly excited as I felt my calves burning and my knees shaking. When we reached a road junction and saw the detour continue straight up and down a steep muddy mountain, we understood why the route was not well received. Walking with friends eased the pain and I found a shared sense of accomplishment when we reached the other side. Sharing experiences on the trail, especially painful ones, is the heart of the hike.

I felt a little spoiled that week. A hostel, a trip to Johnson City, and see my parents at Roan Mountain. It was a rainy week, so I was happy to intersperse comfort between the miles, but that meant losing horses again after breakfast at Mountain Harbor. I made a 21 mile day to get there the night before and get access to the best breakfast on the AT. I went to sleep thinking about French toast and fresh fruit. I woke up thinking, «What is that noise?»

That noise was someone getting sick about three meters from my tent. As a hiker with emetophobia, I quickly began playing a game called “drunk or drunk?” I covered my ears tightly and calmed down for the next hour, trying not to go crazy and convince myself that the whole place was contaminated. Breakfast seemed a little less exciting. The next morning, the victim of the illness said that he had simply eaten too much food and now felt perfectly fine. Noro. I felt a heavy weight lift off my chest and my stomach made room again. Breakfast was delicious!

My parents visited me during my first zero and helped me with housework and catching up on calories. I was even able to treat On It to dinner since she was in the area (although she was still ahead of me on the way, funny how that works). I felt heavy getting back on the road after a day of rest. My backpack wasn’t that heavy, but my mental stamina was as I hiked 16 miles alone. I saw some pretty waterfalls but felt very tired earlier than usual. I decided it was just post-zero fatigue and took a nap in the shelter next door. It was there that I finally met McGoo and McGee, who I had been reading about in the record books for a few days. After they left, I fell asleep in the loft of the shelter to the sound of birds and wind. Then, ten minutes later, the sound of shuffling on the ceiling woke me up again. Draaaagg then pause. Draaaagg, pause. I opened my eyes and saw a giant black rat snake in the rafters right above my head. The nap is over! I quickly gathered my things and let the snake have shelter to himself. When my feet hit the trail, the rain started again. Oh really?

It was still slow that day and the next. I needed something to turn me on again. I stopped at the Kincora Lodge to see if I could meet Bob Peoples and have lunch with him. I had heard that he was some kind of royalty and that I shouldn’t pass up a conversation with him. As I started walking, a minivan pulled up next to me. It took me a minute to realize it was Stitches, a tracking angel I had encountered three times! She gave me my first magical trail at Springer and again at Neel Gap now we met again hundreds of miles later. She was also going to see Bob. We sat on their porch and ate next to bowls of dog food that didn’t actually feed the dogs.

«I have a family of raccoons, some opossums, and two bears. They come every night around 8:30,» Bob told me. He had an infectious smile and shared decades of trail wisdom with me while I listened and ate my lunch. The walls of the overgrown cabin were filled with postcards of Katahdin hikers from the late ’90s. He spoke to me about the importance of using the trail as a tool during life’s transitions. I knew a thing or two about that. He also told me that if you only see the trail as miles to go, you won’t get as much out of it. The path was for self-discovery and learning who you are when no one is around. he too also He told me that he was the one who built the detour, which he called “The Stairway to Hell.” He apologized for how difficult the section was, but said there really was no other option. It was nice to peek behind the curtain and sit in a living room with someone who dedicates their time to maintaining the trail I use every day. He had been part of the AT family for decades and I had only been here for four weeks! It reminded me that I was part of something much bigger than myself.

“Everything here is pretty much the same as always,” Bob said, looking around the dimly lit room. «The price of a stay used to be $4, but now it’s $5. It didn’t increase inflation, I just got tired of all the dollar bills.»

When I finally made it back on the road, Bob sent me off with an Arizona tea and a wish for good luck. I felt a new wave of commitment to the trail and a little lever turned somewhere in my brain that allowed me to plan less and experiment more. I told myself I would walk without expectations and let my days take me where I need to go. I had felt and seen the power of trusting the path, now I just had to listen to where it wanted to take me.

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!

For more information, visit the About page of this site.