Postcards from the Trail

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Location: We the People
2/2/07
Today’s Miles: 0

The people one meets during a long distance hike are one of the most cherished aspects of the hike itself.

How many ways are there to giggle? Count how many people there are and you have your answer. Or one of my favorites is to observe is how different each of us walks. Sure it’s one foot in front of the other, but spending a fair amount on foot in the last three years has me more attune to gate, stride, step, slide, shuffle, saunter, bounce, spring, heel-toe, toe-heel, limps, sore knees, twisted ankle, tendonitis and resupply pack weights. It’s endless. Of course it all stems from the pelvic-bone connecting to hipbone connecting to the leg, knee, shine, ankle, whatever bone. Fortunately ‘connecting’ means ‘jointed,’ otherwise we’d all move down the trail like a walking ladder, if ladders could walk. (The following was a visualizing test of the National Left Brain Society. The test has now concluded – Thank you. You may return to your donut.)

Your walk says a lot about you. You can’t help but easily spot a confident person simply by watching their deliberate pace. Or the timid soul with their slow, somewhat pigeon toed small steps.

On the trail most of us can determine if were walking behind a man or woman based on the size of the shoe print. I’ve been able to fine-tune this a bit to know if the person had tuna or peanut butter for their snack break. On good days I can also determine their sock fluff. The craziest prints I’ve followed on the AT weren’t shoe prints at all but rather barefoot prints for cryn’ out loud!#? Two thousand miles is hard enough with shoes, but fleshy tender toes and soles naked without protection. Well a bag of hammers has a higher IQ.

You meet talkie people (especially after two thousand miles in the woods), non-talkie people, also known as quiet. There are happy hikers those whole faces light up camp and cause flowers to bloom and then there are those whose motto is “Behind every silver lining is a cloud.”

You meet tall hikers, short hikers, fast hikers and slow hikers. Thin hikers and heavy hikers are always out too, only the heavy ones are always early on and the thin ones are always later on. Some are students full of lightning and spirit while many are retirees full of patience and wisdom. There are men chasing women, women chasing women and men and women chasing Budweiser trucks. On the trail, vegans have been known to share the same booth with a burger eater.

I’ve met Aussies, English, Irish, Scots, Germans, French, Canadians, French Canadians, Japanese and Tennesseans. It sounds like my first miles on the PCT I’ll even meet Mexicans, although they do most of their hiking at night I hear.

Yep, lots of good people from lots of good places all suffering from this hiker thingy.
Out on the trail people say “Hi” and chat. Some become friends; others become lovers, husbands and wives. We’re really more alike than different and the elements help to remind us of that. When a lightning cracks above, we all flinch in unison. I’m glad I no longer reach for a “Flesh” colored Crayon when coloring in my drawings as I had to when growing up, I now reach for beige.