Springer, GA —> Hot Springs, NC
I hiked fast. For two days I sprinted through the woods. Twenty-six miles by my fourth day on trail. I desperately wanted to catch the other thru-hikers. Before the trail, I wrote my intentions in my journal to ground me while I was in the woods. I wrote that I wanted time alone to reflect, meditate, and discover inner peace but when I got on trail alone I was consumed by my obsession with not being alone. I wanted to conquer my fear of being alone in the woods but my fear of loneliness engulfed me like a storm… and then there was a literal storm.
By 1PM on Day 5 I had hiked 23 miles at nearly four mile per hour pace, running and crying down the trail. I had 7 miles more to reach the shelter I set my heart on. I had to hike 30 mile days to catch the bubble (that was in Virginia by then) but my body and mind had no time to acclimate. I got lost often because my tears kept flowing and blurring my vision. I tried to call my mom and then my boyfriend at the time but I never had strong enough reception. I felt more lonely and scared than I ever had. I had gone from seeing all fifteen of my closest friends every single day at my small private liberal arts college to seeing no one except salamanders and one weird kid with tarot cards for three days. I wanted to go home. I questioned my choices. I always considered myself mentally and physically strong but maybe I wasn’t strong enough.
Clouds rolled in and a sprinkle turned into a torrential downpour in seconds. Nothing could keep the water out of my clothes or pack so I gave up on staying dry. At least now my tears would blend in with the rain.
I got impatient because I had hiked for two more hours, the sun was setting, and I still hadn’t reached the shelter. I felt fear sinking into my stomach. The forest’s energy shifted like something bad was about to happen. Right then I looked up and I saw the shelter. Elated, I charged towards it but when I looked up, tears and rain blurring my vision, I slipped on a wet rock and crashed to the ground, shattering my knee. It was one of the worst pains I’ve felt and when I got up, I was covered in mud and blood. I couldn’t put weight on it and it immediately started throbbing - no adrenaline high.
I limped to the shelter and felt the pain of the impact set in fast. By the time I reached the shelter it was swollen and throbbing. I cried ugly tears and I screamed, not from the pain, but because I knew my hike was over. I felt eviscerated. I invested everything into this hike. My money, my time, my future, my heart. When I committed to hiking this trail I was unsure of everything in my life except this and now “this” exploded in my face. My ego, self-esteem, and reputation as an independent, athletic, brave individual was all riding on this. On top of that I did not have my family’s support. Everything they had warned me of was coming true and I was about to justify their doubts. I had so much to prove and I failed. I didn’t even make it 200 miles.
I convulsed as I cried until my stomach cramped. I didn’t care about anything and I couldn’t stop crying. I failed. I failed. I failed. I fucked up and I’m so stupid. And my knee hurt like a bitch.
I got lightheaded from crying then I heard distant voices singing. Multiple voices singing and for the record, they sounded awful, but seemed to be having fun. I quickly wiped my eyes, though my face was red and puffy so it didn’t hide my crying. I sat up and saw four headlamps approaching.
Four college-age boys arrived at the shelter in Hawaiian shirts, baggies, and flip flops.
“Oh shit dude are you okay?” One of them asked.
“I’m okay thanks just a little sad,” I said, initially judging them as frat bros who would be emotionally insensitive and dismissive of my vulnerability. It’s sad to think that we live in a world where I felt unsafe when four eighteen year old boys showed up at night. It’s sad to live in a world where that fear is often justified and for me, it was later in my time on the AT. But not this night.
“Aw dude well you can talk to us if you want. We’re here all night. On a chill bro weekend trip ya know? We all went to high school together in Tennessee. These guys, they’re like by brothers,” one said pointing at the other three with his thumb.
“Fuck dude what happened to your knee?” One asked. I told them I slipped on a rock and he said, “well I’m about to go filter some water- want me to fill your bottles? I’ve got a big pump dude and you shouldn’t walk all that way.”
I thanked him and gave him my bottles to fill.
I sat on a log around the fire ring as the other boys set up their sleeping pads in the shelter. Eventually I set up mine but mostly we all just talked. One of them lit up when I told him I was from LA. He said he’s never been to the West Coast but dreams of being an actor or screenwriter. He told me that movies were a portal for his imagination and had a lot to do with making him the person he is today. He said movies showed him that there’s more than one way to be and that diversity is beautiful, despite being raised in white Tennessee suburbs.
They built a fire and encouraged me to join them. They passed around a joint. One of them got out what was probably a two pound sommer sausage to cook over the fire.
“Dude you’re eating all the food we’re gonna run out!” one exclaimed.
“Bruh each of us brought a ten pound food bag for a two day trip. I think it’s fine,” then we all laughed.
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