Thoughts on the French Broad River and Getting My Trail Named…Again

The cost of happiness

The price of happiness is being brave enough to imagine it. Dreams come true. All you have to do is hold on and trust that they will take you somewhere beautiful. As I walked away from the pure magic of the Smoky Mountains, reflecting on my time there, I wondered what other dreams would come true. I spent some time contemplating what the future held, what lessons I would learn, and what I can truly offer to the people I meet along this incredible path.

When I was a kid I wanted to do something big. I had no way of knowing then what that would be like. And in many ways, I’m still searching for that today. As I descended another beautiful mountain and reached Groundhog Creek Shelter, I was reminded that greatness is not always so great. It wasn’t about being a celebrity or a professional athlete, like I thought when I was a kid. It wasn’t even about walking thousands of kilometers carrying everything on your back, as I thought for the last decade.

Greatness is much smaller and deeper. The truly great things in this life come from the kindness of people and the connections we make. True greatness is expressed with a smile and a friendly ear. At the shelter, I welcomed it en masse, and it propelled me the next day over the picturesque Max Patch and into the town of Hot Springs, North Carolina, home to what was to be one of the largest rivers I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing – a river worth diving into.

Connected but very accommodating

There isn’t much in the small town of Hot Springs. There is a complex that houses a hot spring. But that didn’t interest me much. As I walked down the main street, I saw the outfitter with a porch and a group of hikers. Apparently it’s the meeting place, especially since the town brewery was closed that day. The vendor had a porch and covered area and most of all had a charging station for all of our phones and power banks. This seemed to be the main draw and really the only place to plug in. When I took my electronics bag out of my backpack, I was most interested in being in the shade.

Being up in the Smoky Mountains, where it was pretty cold, and then descending into the valley where it was really hot, was kind of a shock. What I really wanted was to jump into the river (which I hadn’t seen yet). But of course that would have to wait until it was fully charged. She was sitting on the bench in the shade, eager to be somewhere else. Upon reflection, I felt somewhat complacent. I’m not sure if it was just the strange vibe I felt in the city or if it was just that I had different expectations about what my time here would be like. Either way, my mind wasn’t in the best place.

Impromptu outfitter session

I was thinking about whether or not I would go out that night. It was a dilemma. Up until that point, I had yet to take a zero day on the AT. Having developed an overuse injury in the Smokies and knowing I needed a rest day, I had every intention of taking the next day off, but sitting there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being taken away from this place. They were luring me north. That? I wasn’t sure. Sitting there as the traffic (cars and large trucks) slowly passed by, I was staring into space, thinking about nothing and everything at once, when a hiker walked by the porch with a small guitar. In fact, the same guitar that he had on the CDT.

I honestly imagined there would be many more hikers carrying instruments, but I had only met one so far, and that was the first day. This was enough to change the trajectory of my thinking. Finally, something that could get me out of my own head. The hiker carrying the guitar was called Squid. We talked about guitar and music, I got out my ukulele and we had a little jam session before we and his family finally unplugged our devices and headed to the river to take a dip and cool off.

Tramilia of Musicians

In the river was Squid’s brother, Dragon Ball, who is also a musician. They were hiking with a woman named Rockette, who turned out to be a drummer. There was a poet and a philosopher whose fiancé was a jazz pianist, as well as many other hikers, including one who played in a folk band. I had been bursting bubbles playing music for people for over two weeks, and it was great, but now, on the banks of the French Broad River, I found myself in a complete bubble of other musicians, people I could relate to on a level that only accompaniment can get.

I waded into the river the first time, letting the cold water wash away the dirt from my skin and the complacency from my mind. Then we lit a fire, not to comfort or warm ourselves, but to begin cooking the feast. Apparently Squid and his brother do this frequently, and they both carry lightweight grills specifically for cooking over a fire. That night, they spent hours cooking a whole chicken, hamburgers, bratwurst, steaks, hot dogs, grilled cheese sandwiches, potatoes, and onions right on the fire while we listened to and talked about music. Food to nourish our bodies, conversations to nourish our minds and music to nourish our souls.

the party

At one point, Squid and Rockette went back to town to get tortillas and cheese because we decided we were going to make quesadillas over the fire. They came back in the dark while we were still cooking, and after many hours, they took out all the chicken and removed the blackened aluminum foil. As if we were scavenging birds, we swarm around the chicken, tearing the meat from the bones with our bare hands like the pagans that we are.

A memory that I keep now and will always remember fondly. We ate, laughed and sang songs in harmony while the brothers continued cooking, providing infinite calories. One by one, a quesadilla came off the fire and the hikers ate. We all ate until the chicken was nothing but bones and we were completely full, happy and ready for bed. The party was full and so were all of us.

Get my route name again

At the beginning of this trip, the other hikers tried to give me a new name for the trail, but I had been Camel for 10 years. I couldn’t imagine myself with any other name. The story behind my name is cool, but I honestly never thought it was much of a story. This year it has become something completely different and has taken on a new life.

Before starting this hike, I reconnected with my best friend, who knew nothing about hiking or the culture surrounding it, including the act of obtaining and having a trail name. When I told him mine without the story of how it came about, his response was, «Oh, that makes sense.» When I asked him why, he said, “Because you carry my burden for me.” Now, at the river, a hiker asked me my name, and when I told him, he said, «Oh, because you carry the weight of people for them.» You see, I’m a helper by nature, and although the origin of my name had to do with something completely different, it has taken the shape of who I am as a person.

I am Camel, and by listening to you, caring for you, and doing everything in my power to help you, I will lift you up and carry you as far as I can. Just like that, I got a new name for the trail this year, and it comes with a great story: my story.

Enlighten me

Down by the river, I hear you call my name
I wonder if I’ll feel the same
with some other body
Will it feel the same?

Come on baby, enlighten me
I’m here to take

Down by the river, I hear you call my name
I wonder if I’ll really feel the same
With some other body, some other name.
I wonder if things will ever change.
Will some other body drive me crazy?

On an old oak tree we climb
We will go higher and higher
we will never give up
We dangle our legs as we talk.
we talk about nonsense
And where we’d like to walk next
Reminding each other to take our socks off
Just let your feet breathe

Down in the meadow, wildflowers are blooming.
We will sit on our pads and pretend that this meadow is our room.
Finding ourselves lost in each other’s eyes
Ignoring bees, mosquitoes and biting flies
And we wonder if it was in vain

Come on baby, enlighten me
You already enlighten me
So come on, baby, light my fire.
I’m not sad; I’m just happy
I’m here to take
So take me home
So come on baby, enlighten me

Those who have the most fun

The next day, I took that zero with the musicians tram and of course we hung out at the supplier, recharging our devices. After a while, we returned to the river. One of the girls had bought a pool float and I watched as she and Squid played in the water like they were kids on summer vacation. It was beautiful. Squid had mentioned that he wanted to cross the river. So, with the help of the float, he did just that while we booed and shouted from the shores. After crossing, he floated down the rapids with the current.

One hiker casually said he was having the most fun of all of us. So when he, the hero, came back and said, «Who’s next?» I took off my shirt in 1.75 seconds. I grabbed the float and swam across the river. As I did so, and as I floated through this incredibly spectacular and special body of water, I could hear cheering and people shouting my name. «Yes, camel! Go, camel!» My best friend told me to have fun on this hike. I knew she would be proud because I absolutely was.

River reflections and a crystalline message from a star

That night, I was lying in my tent watching the sun reflect on the water when I received a message. It came from a hiker named Star who started the trail the same day I did. Although he was just finishing the walk he had started in Pearisburg the year before. I hadn’t seen her since Franklin. The good news was that she wasn’t that far away and she definitely wanted to see me and maybe walk together.

My birthday was only a couple of weeks away and I really thought it would be lovely to hang out with such a brilliant and cool person. The bad news was that the next few days would turn out to be the worst trail days I’ve experienced in a long, long time. The horrible news was that I would be left even further behind, making the reality of catching up with her by my birthday and before she got out of the way seem like a truly insurmountable task. A pipe dream, so to speak.