An essay on the angels of the path

I recently had an experience that reminded me of the beauty of the angels of the path and I wanted to share it with you.

If you’re not familiar with this aspect of trail culture, let me fill you in: there are locals who live in towns near long trails in the US, and they often dedicate their time to helping hikers in many ways. They take hikers into town, leave supplies and snacks at trailheads, or really anything to help hikers. They are called Angels of the Road. When something like this happens to you while you’re walking on a trail, maybe someone leaves a gift under a tree for a hiker, or someone helps you around town, that’s called Trail Magic. The concept of Trail Magic is quite fluid. It’s really anything useful or “magical” that happens to you along the way. At the center of Trail Magic are Trail Angels, the locals who make these seemingly magical things happen for you.

Trail Magic is very popular on the Appalachian Trail, and while I was in the bubble for the first few weeks I simply couldn’t cross a street without receiving some form of magic. The Arizona Trail, however, is not that solid at first glance. I say «at first glance» because I’ve been on this trail for a little over two weeks and I’m learning to see Trail Magic in places you wouldn’t expect.

I see Trail Magic in every water tank. In every FarOut comment with silly, specific instructions on how exactly to get water out of a unique cow tank. I’m watching Trail Magic during the day, hikers who gave me their phone number in case I needed help during the heat wave that hit Arizona. I’m even seeing it in hikers who share their electrolytes with each other without a moment’s hesitation.

I really got to thinking about Trail Magic the other week when I suffered my first trail injury.

He started by climbing Mica Mountain. At first, the energy was electric and the vibrations were high. We were climbing the “hardest” mountain in the AZT and we loved it. I sat down for a moment to call my grandmother for her birthday and when I got up, something was wrong with my right leg. As I continued up the mountain, my right leg began to feel worse and worse. I couldn’t locate exactly a point or muscle that was giving me problems, I only knew that it hurt to put weight on my leg and that I couldn’t bend it completely. This continued throughout the climb and into the next morning as we descended. After a while I knew I had to go to town and get a zero.

I texted my friend Nibbles, who already had the AZT done. I asked him if he knew any good places in the city as I rested my leg. He responded immediately, «my friend from college lives in Tucson, I’ll see if she can come pick you up.» Within moments, someone I had never met was making plans to drive to a crossroads and pick me up after work. Magic trail.

I dragged my leg the next 5 miles to get to the road and meet her. Morale was low and I could barely stand it at that point. I reached the crossroads and found some shade to take a nap while I waited for her.

I was fast asleep when I heard someone move behind me. I squinted and looked around and found someone dumping water from their truck into the water tank in the parking lot. We approached, introduced ourselves and helped him unload the water. He said his name was Alan and he had been on vacation for a couple of weeks, but had finally returned to bring water to the hikers. We chatted for a couple of minutes and he asked me if my ride was on the way.

He had a worried tone when he said, «Will she be able to make it to this path?» If I’m honest, I didn’t really know where I was. I only knew that I was at a crossroads and that there was a dirt road in front of me. He let me know that the road between here and Tucson was incredibly rough and rocky, and he offered to drive me in his huge pickup truck to the bottom of the mountain to meet Nibbles’ friend. I got into his truck and we began the walk down the mountain. It was brutal. I had no idea how intense it was and I quickly realized that she would never have made it up to me if Alan hadn’t been there at that exact moment to help me. Magic trail.

He took me to the back where my vehicle, Danielle, was waiting for me. I thanked Alan many times and got into Danielle’s car. What followed was the definition of Trail Magic.

She was immediately very kind and comforting. She took me to a grocery store so I could buy anything I needed and then to my hotel. He waited while I checked in to make sure I was okay. Then the next night, he invited me to dinner. We took a tour of Tucson and she pointed out all her favorite places. We went to a food truck and tried “Perros Sonorenses” and then found delicious Mexican food. She made me feel like a normal human being, not like a hiker stuck in a hotel with an injured leg.

Then she picked me up and took me back to the trail. We stopped at CVS and he even bought me some arnica gel to help with my leg (big fan by the way, I think it cured me). He took me to Oracle City and we had coffee with Bumblebee before we finally had to say goodbye.

When I reflect on that entire experience, I am amazed at how different it could have been without the help of Trail Angels. He might have had difficulty getting to the city. I could have been so upset about my injury and spent the days in the hotel moping and brooding about it. It could have been a low point for the trail and instead I’m sitting here writing about what a special experience it was.

I’ve had countless experiences of people helping me when I’m on a path, but this one really made me stop and think about the goodness that lives within people. The people are good. In my time as a hiker, I had the privilege of witnessing the best in humans. I’ve watched people go out of their way to help a hiker in difficulty, and I can’t help but wonder why this culture exists on the trails and what we could do to bring this phenomenon into the broader public culture.

Many of us dream of a world where people are simply good, where you can trust those around you, and where people help each other without expecting anything in return. I write this to tell you that this dream world already exists, it is on the trails of our country. There is a place where people are kind and trusting and everyone helps. There is a place where you can ask for help and you will get it. In this place, on these trails, you can show up as your most tired, smelly, worn-out self and people will still extend their hand to you.

I wonder why hikers can see this beautiful side of everyone. Why doesn’t this happen everywhere, in our daily lives? Why is it that when I tell my non-hiker friends and family stories about Trail Magic it sounds like some crazy, implausible story, when in reality it’s just another part of trail culture?

What is it about trails that brings out the best in people? When I hike, I really trust everyone in a way that I probably wouldn’t in my normal life. Why is this? I’m not sure, but it’s making me see my country in a different way. There is a growing optimism in me that did not exist before I started hiking. I know people can be surprisingly kind and loving, because I’ve seen it now. It’s beautiful and rare and inspiring and it exists on the trails of our country, and I think if you’ve seen it too, you might like it a little more here.

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