Hike the Appalachian mountains

“The first month is always a period of waiting for those mountain legs to come. Unless you’ve actively been hiking mountains day in and day out, it’s hard to find the endurance and strength to hike long days back to back. Inclines feel impossible and leave you sore and gasping for air. Others behind you pass you by and you sprawl out on the ground thinking: When do I get to be strong too?”

“I didn’t see all the scenery between Georgia and West Virginia. The forest stood unobserved for miles when I turned inward. I thought about family. Was I a good father? A good son? A good husband? I thought about work and money, even though I tried not to. I thought about God and soul. Bodily cues occupied me for miles: Am I tired, hungry, thirsty? What’s that pain in my knee? Is that a blister forming on my heel? Thoughts persisted about those nuisances—time and distance: Will I reach the shelter before dark? How far to the next water source? Am I hiking too slowly? Will I hike seventeen miles today? What day is today? Then a deer would bolt, or a bird would whistle—and jolt me back to nature.”

“I usually hiked alone, but I talked to people every day. In a quick reading of body language, I knew if a person coming down the trail wanted to chat. It didn’t matter if the person was young or old, male or female—the trail lifts the usual barriers that keep us from talking to each other in supermarkets and subway trains.”