The middle of Virginia has proved rugged and demanding, with several 2,000-3,000 foot climb days. My feet hurt. But mentally I've been rolling over the mountains. I remarked in some fireside conversation with my brother Saint and friend G that I have really been hitting my stride and have felt much better on the trail. They said they had noticed the change. In the early stages I felt taxed by speed and mileage. I set out with intent to "hike my own hike" as we say out here, but something happened. "My own hike" became a thread in a web among the trail community. I met the rest of the Goonies, and found that laughter, good company, and the presence of friendship on a journey on which I thought it would be sparse led me farther in a day than I would have traveled on my own. The comfortable speed and mileage my short legs and anaerobically-conditioned (vs. distance-oriented and aerobic) body would have preferred contrasted starkly with the pace of my new friends. But that gap has been ever-shortening, and has nearly closed. 20-mile days no longer intimidate me. I even looked at the full map of the AT today, on display at the Dutch Haus. I had been avoiding them. It doesn't look so scary anymore. I told Gansta and Wags about a conversation I had last week with one of my best friends. She said, "I can't believe you've already walked 700 miles. You're going to DO this!" I said, "Haha, yeah I'm starting to think so myself!" They liked it. I mean, I am ever the pessimist, and I still think something crazy is going to happen (always). But, it's looking... better. I mean it did drop below freezing again last night, and I almost drowned in my tent 3 nights before that, because, as I wrote to my beloved Almost Hiking Partner in an email, Noah's Ark Part II decided to happen when we were camping between shelters. But I woke up with all my toes atill functioning, and my lungs still pumping air and not water. Despite myself I am beginning to hold out some hope that this dream might actually be within reach.
For the record, I am knocking on wood right now.
Trail humor has provided much entertainment along the way. We were so looking forward to our stopover at the Dutch Haus (well worth all the hype, by the way) that we spent the last 2 days speaking in Dutch accents. Okay, so they were probably more like German, but, let it happen. Actually, G's was definitely coming from some Asian nation. But in any case, we had great fun. We all signed the trail register at Seeley-Woodworth Shelter "[insert trail name here] Haus" and Saint wrote "The Goonie Haus" on top of the page, and "Goonies always say 'haus'" at the bottom (a reference to the line "Goonies never say die!" which has made it into the registers on all days when we have been separated). A couple of days ago we read in the Thru-Hikers' Companion (read: Trail Bible) that a 5-year-old boy had gone missing a long time ago on one of the mountains we were climbing after he went to look for some firewood for his school house. I composed some lyrics about little Ottie to the tune of "the little drummer boy" while G and I were hiking together. G sings made-up songs all the time. Wags made Saint rub her feet in a shelter, which led to all sorts of jokes. I spent the entire day randomly yelling out "BEN & JERRY'S!" on the way to town last week. And then I ate some and it was glorious. Sometimes we talk to Hermes, even though he has been ahead of us for days, going to meet his uncle for a zero day. And, though I blush to admit it, the adolescent bathroom humor abounds.
In any case, we are definitely having fun out here amidst all the work of thru-hiking. And it is work; though like the work of one's most chosen and prized career. And we look forward to days like today, where Lois Arnold of the Dutch Haus does my laundry for me and I get to sit in a bathrobe while it dries in the breeze outside, and I eat 2 giant delicious home-cooked meals. And I email my college roommate because Penthouse 509 might come visit this weekend, and I am so excited. And there's a guitar here! And I play for over an hour. And I finally get down on Fake Plastic Trees, which has been dancing around my head since I told a story about the greatest New Year's Eve in the history of New Year's Eves. And I miss music so much that I even get up the courage to sing (belt it, sing!) and I don't much care who is listening. And I can write for a bit while my friends are off watching TV because it's 'Dancing With the Stars' night, you know. And I know my mom is watching at home so it makes me smile. And we'll go back on the trail tomorrow, me and friends, and we'll climb some painintheass climbs, but after it'll be another day down, and we'll think, 'Yeah we did that. It wasn't so bad. Let's do it again tomorrow.' And we will.
That's so beautiful.
Love you guys.
<3 WindUp
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