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Writer's pictureCalvin Dobbs-Breslin

False Friends

Updated: May 26, 2021

Luray, VA —> Rollercoaster, VA

The next day the three of us hiked back up the mountain. We hiked slower because I told them about my knee and they said they had nowhere to be and didn’t mind. Finally, I had friends who cared about me and wouldn’t abandon me. I needed friends so desperately I conveniently forgot that one of them had kissed me under the stars without my consent.

Over the next two days of low miles and help carrying my gear to lighten my load, my knee healed to the point of being able to hike a 17 mile day. Then a 20 mile day. After a week of hiking with Safety Shawn and Toucan, we were a tramily. Inseparable. Time would test the permanence of this unbreakable bond.

Shawn opened up about his traumatic childhood with an alcoholic father and schizophrenic mother. He said he always had to be the responsible one growing up but it made him mature and creative as a problem solver. He opened up about his own mental health issues and I felt privileged to listen and provide loving support.


Once my knee fully healed I was ready to hike big miles. I’m a big mile hiker and they were definitely capable, they just didn’t have any interest. Toucan was older so Shawn and I would often leave him behind and he would catch us at camp but Shawn always wanted to take long breaks in the middle of the day. This made me anxious because I only stop after I’ve completed my miles for the day. I would say, “I’m going to hike on and I’ll meet you at the shelter where we’ll sleep,” but then he would beg me to stay with him and say how much he enjoyed my company. It was hard to say no.


On many rainy days he would use the weather to persuade me to take a siesta with him in a shelter. We huddled for warmth and he would fall asleep in my lap then sleep for four hours. I lay away the entire time breathing shallow so as not to wake him. Time stood still in the most unbearable way. I wanted to hike. One day I tried to sneak out of a mid-day siesta and he startled me with a stern, “where are you going?” as I quietly packed.

“I can't sleep so I was gonna hike on and meet you there,” I explained. “I thought we were gonna stay together?” He was pissed.

“Yeah but I don’t like taking naps as much as you do,” I joked. He did not laugh. So I stayed.


He said he had to hitch into town because his phone service was going to run out and he had to pay his bill. “If I don’t have my phone I can’t use guthooks or anything and I can’t finish the trail,” he said.

In town we went to Hardees and he ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, and a large soda then he looked at me. I stared at him blankly until he raised his eyebrows and I snapped out of it and handed the cashier my card. No thanks I don’t want anything. I’m vegan…and I hate fries.


After lunch we went to a gas station. He walked in to buy a refillable phone card then immediately walked out and started pacing around the parking lot in a huff. He was angry.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, franticly concerned.

“I don’t have enough and they’re going to cut off my service and then I’ll have to get off trail.”

I tried to touch his shoulder but he flinched. He was inconsolable. He turned to me, pupils dilated with little flames behind in them, like when you shake a magic 8 ball. “Where the fuck am I gonna go Sarah?! If I get off trail I’ll be homeless. My girlfriend took everything from me and this was my one chance.”

His passionate plea turned to rage.

“Forget it I don't know why I’m telling you, you can’t fucking help me. You don't care either. Just fucking leave,” he yelled and walked away.

“Wait!” I ran after him. “I can cover you, so you can stay on trail.” He stoped.

“I can pay the bill to buy you another month. It can’t be that much.” He turned to me, still fuming. “Fine but I don’t know what that will accomplish. Yeah, it’ll be a month then what? I’ll still be homeless when I get off trail.”

“I won’t let you be homeless, okay? I promise.” I ran into the gas station and bought the phone card. When I came out he activated it and said, “cool.” We hitched back to the trail and the only words he said were “move” when my elbow was in his rib on the ride back.


That night the shelter had mice and I couldn't sleep so I set up my tent. Right as I started to drift off someone unzipped my tent and startled me. “Relax it’s me,” the voice said and I knew it was him. He said he couldn’t sleep either so he crawled into my tent. There was barely room for me but he moved in and said “goodnight.” I laid away and thought about how ironic it was that his trail name was “Safety.”


We walked together for another few days. He told me more about his difficult upbringing and how he thought he might be undiagnosed bipolar. We stoped for long lunches and he shared his food with me. I would often refuse however, because I have a lot of dietary restrictions. “You’re sooo picky,” he would taunt. “I just literally can’t eat those things. They’ll make me sick,” I explained.

“No, you’re just sooo picky,” he would interrupt. “Hey that’s a trail name - Picky! I’m gonna call you Picky,” he declared.

“Uhhh I don’t think I want that trail name and don’t I have to accept it for it to be my name?” That’s how trail names work. “

No I’m calling you Picky,” he confirmed and there was nothing I could do about it.

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