Post #13. “A day may come when the courage of men fails….”

I hiked by a couple of lakes and took the opportunity to have a debate with myself about whether or not I should go for a swim. Cons: It isn’t that hot, so I am not that sweaty; I’ll have to wear wet shorts for several hours; it’s a pain to put my toe sock liners on over wet feet; and the mosquitoes will feast on my pale torso when I remove my shirt. Pros: It’s been a couple of days since I last showered; I may regret passing up the opportunity; and it will probably feel good. The “yeas” won out, so in I went. Well, I really waded into the drink with the water slightly above my knees and then stood there trying to summon up the courage to make the commitment to dive in. And get this folks: The water wasn’t even cold! If it had been cold, which I define as less than 70 degrees, I would have only put my piggy toes in. I eventually dived in, surfaced, and got out since the deed was done. Sometimes things just require more bravery than I can summon.

The terrain I’ve been traversing is slowly changing. The woods are starting to take on more characteristics of the northern forests: Cardinals, scrub oaks, mountain laurel, and rhododendrons are giving way to blue jays, balsams, and witch hobble. Since leaving Pennsylvania, the elevation of the mountain ascents has been slowly increasing with each new state or mountain range that I encounter as I head north. The Poconos, Palisades, Berkshires, and Green mountains are all preparing us for New Hampshire’s arduous White Mountains and the Bigelow range in southern Maine. Since I have just entered Vermont’s Green Mountains, I will have to count on them to complete my preparation.

In the AT community, Vermont is known as Vermud. A trivia question from the AT community: What is the longest river in Vermont? Answer: the Appalachian Trail. My impressions of Vermont might be a bit premature since I have only spent a day hiking in the state, but I’m not sure the AT in Vermont is any worse than the trails in the Adirondack High Peaks. I’m sure it depends on how much rainfall was recently received.

  I often think of the first three verses of Psalms 23.  I am usually fairly content where I am, with what I’ve been given to do, and like to pat myself on the back for not falling victim to envy.  But I have to admit that I have recently been struggling with envy.  If you have been following my blog, you may recall that I have jokingly complained about younger folks effortlessly cruising past me while ascending mountains.  I was comfortable with seeing those strong young men and women cruise by me a couple of months ago, because I was assuming that as the miles rolled by, I would get stronger and would be able to have a more aggressive hiking pace.  Maybe I am getting stronger, but I’m usually not seeing or feeling it.  My pace is just so much slower and I need longer and more frequent breaks than other hikers.  I know, I know, I’m not supposed to compare myself with others.   But it is important to measure ourselves.  When one expects to see change in oneself, then you compare yourself with yourself.  I don’t ever expect to be as strong as a 30 year old.  But I would like to get to the point where I can see and feel that I am getting stronger and have more confidence in my physical ability.  

I have heard past thru hikers say that it never gets easier. I guess I need to have more patience with myself. I think I’m entering the more challenging dimension of a thru hike; the mental, emotional and spiritual struggles. The battle within. I’ve read about this and now it’s here. It’s intimidating to know that it’s time to face it. It reminds me of the scene in Lord of the Rings when the good guys are preparing for the battle of Helm’s Deep and watching them face battle fear.

  Okay, okay, this is only a hike.  Or, as author Bill Bryson calls it, “a walk in the woods.  It’s time to stop fretting about this and time to put one foot in front of the other.