In six days I’ll be heading down to D.C. on Amtrak. From there, a Greyhound will take me to Marion,
VA, which is 60+ miles from where I need to end up, Damascus, VA. The kind people of the Mount Rogers Outfitters in town will send someone to pick me up. Once I get to Damascus, it’s then I’ll decide when I’ll actually hit the trail. When I’ll start hiking is dependent on a couple of things: 1. the time of day I reach Damascus and 2. how tired I’ll be when I get there. It’ll take over a full day to get from Scituate, MA to Damascus, VA.
Thinking over my hike of last year on the AT, memories of the shelters & campsites are still fresh in my mind. The towns I passed through, either to resupply or just to get a room & a shower, hold fond memories. Funny how sitting on a bench outside of a laundromat on a warm, sunny day, wearing my rain pants & no shirt, can bring a smile to my face. Half Ounce & I shared a washer & dryer to wash our minimal clothes, with room to spare.
The sites & smells of the trail, the satisfaction of carrying all you need on your back, from one place to the next, is an inexplicable feeling. Those who don’t backpack can’t exactly grasp what it is you’re talking about in conversation. The descent of Blood Mountain that had my right knee & foot screaming for deliverance. The many felled trees I climbed over & went around in the Smokies I remember well. These are just a few things that come to mind in a matter of seconds.
Most of all, I remember the people I met along the 460+ miles I hiked. Shane from Tennessee, who I talked with for hours, eating pizza & wings on the outside deck of Jordano’s in Helen, GA about home & life. The Chattahoochee River flowed past us 30 feet or so away. It was Shane who dubbed me, "The Pilgrim." Half Ounce from Oregon, Slightly from Maryland, Aboman from Virginia, all great guys. The inimitable twins from Michigan, Timecop & Dangersnake! We had other names for them too, lol. Pony Boy & Bearbait, Bulldog, Thought Criminal & Big Red. Bourbon, who I still owe two dollars for the sodas, lol. Digger & Fish from Pennsylvania, Grizzly & Forest Fire from Connecticut, The Irish Ghost who gave me a lift back to the trail from the Hiawassee Inn. Sam, Joel & Dan, and the two Israeli hikers whose names I either cannot remember or pronounce. The friendly & reserved Boat, a calming person to be around.
Skipper was the only SOBO hiker I met last year, a man in his sixties. He had left the trail twice to tend to matters at home. His wife had surgery, then his mother-in-law passed away. There was just a little over 100 miles for him to go, and he looked tired. There wasn’t much excitement in his words as we spoke, though I’m sure he was feeling it. He started his hike back in July of ’07, and it was April ’08 when we met. Easy Does It & Slo Goin’, a couple older guys with good stories. Sky Pilot, a former helicopter pilot in Vietnam, was a good man to walk with. Bonelady & Wild Oats, a couple of earthy, crunchy girls.
Sitting outside of Kephart 1 at the NOC, drinking beer & eating pizza with Aboman, Patience, Boone, Joel & Dan on a cool night. Aboman, Half Ounce, Boat, Panther & I all bunked together. I remember the river rushing by the NOC, standing on the bridge was a real pretty scene.
There are more people & places to talk about, but you get the idea. One of the fondest memories I have is sitting on the outdoor balcony of Elmer’s, drinking some Blue Moon beer & talking with Aboman & Henry. My bed at Elmer’s was up above the garage, accessed by a trap door. It was quiet & I was alone, at least until the cat climbed the ladder to hop into bed with me for a while. I enjoyed the company. I hope I meet more good people on my hike this year, even though it’s so late in getting back to the trail. Either way, I’m there for myself & am hiking for me. If I don’t meet anyone out there this year, that’s fine. Maybe it’ll help me appreciate it even more.
~The Pilgrim.
