The First Few Days

As I mentioned in my previous post, I’m going to be sharing some more in-depth updates from the Appalachian Trail, with revisions from my original writing. Here are just a few thoughts from my first week on trail.

25 March, Day 2: Hawk Mountain Shelter

I’m lying here in a three-sided wooden structure, between two strangers who, I realize, I would somehow trust with my life. Out here, you have to make bonds fast. You’re forced to cut through the bullshit and get to the core more quickly. We all have a common goal and we’re all equally as nuts for willingly going out for a five month walk. There’s an unspoken and necessary trust here. on my right: this wiry, strong, middle-aged woman who is meeting her family in a couple days. On my left: Bo (BBQ) the recent graduate who made the awesome custom deck of AT cards. I’ve talked with them for a matter of hours yet here I am, lying on a wooden platform in the middle of nowhere in Georgia, perfectly trusting in the human beings lying in this box. I have to be: the rain and hail poured from the sky today and it seemed much drier and safer to stay in the shelter. Convenience and comfort trump doubt and distrust. Sure, avoid people who make you uncomfortable. But as long as you have good feelings, the beginnings of community can arise.

Hawk Mountain shelter, day 2. I was happy to get a spot in the shelter this night, since there was a nasty hail storm later in the evening.

28 March, Day 5: Lance Creek, 07:11

Woke up to the trill of a bird up on the hill. Consulted Audubon and I think it’s a Carolina Wren. Pattern of three ascending notes, repeated three times. Another bird across the valley seemed to be talking but the song was a little different. Now I’m hearing the four notes of the Carolina chickadee. It feels so cool to know what I’m hearing, if I’m right about it. Now I want to know Native names. What did the people who originally occupy these lands call the chickadee, the Wren, Lance Creek? There is so much knowledge here that I will never be able to fully tap into, but it feels wonderful to start to identify songs.

The evening view from my tent at Lance Creek, Georgia

30 March, Day 7: Rocky Mountain Campsite, 19:42

The sun is setting but everyone is in their tents. I’m here in the silence, a thing surprisingly not common on the AT, listening to the rustle of wind and watching the sun slide behind the clouds and mountains. There’s no light like the forest at sunset. It glows, every leaf and rock and white blaze. I’m aggrieved for the loss of Native knowledge and stewardship of these lands. I am also grateful for the chance to be a visitor here. Thank you, Native peoples who tended these lands long before I arrived. Thank you, chickadees and wrens and bluebirds. Thank you, trees and wind and rain and sun. Thank you, Appalachian Trail.

Sunset through the trees near our campsite on Rocky Mountain, Georgia

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