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you. You are the most well-groomed, metrosexual
Big Foot waves goodbye as we pull away from the hostel. Damn, I miss him already. This is the end of the Moving Village—and the beginning of an all-new hike. Change can be frightening at times, but out here it's our way of life. When I stepped onto the AT, I sought change. I wanted to move away from a static existence. Suitably, the end of one thing opens the way for something wondrous. I see not the end but a new start.
He looks me straight in the eyes. "This will be the last time I see you," he says, "so I'll leave you with these words: Be kind to all, don't take your friends for granted, and be memorable."
And just like that, this gentle person gave me advice I would adhere to through the rest of my journey. It instantly made sense to me. I can take pictures of mountains, of breathtaking views, of all the beauty the Appalachian Trail possesses and end up with a few stunning photos. But pictures of people I meet along the trail can evoke a memory of kind words, a shared experience. It's the people that make this trail truly special.
New Yorkers don't take anything from strangers, unless they plan on handing over some money in return. Avoiding eye contact is a must; if you don't, strangers will latch onto that look like a tick on dreadlocks.
When I first planned my thru-hike, I was going to avoid stopping in NYC, worried that the desire to stay home instead of returning to the trail might be too great. I realize now that was a thought developed with little knowledge of how the AT would affect me. The Appalachian Trail gives me all the feels, so the possibility of not returning is far from my mind.
Tonight, I have my New York friends and my Appalachian Trail friends together in one place—my two worlds joined in celebration of this marvelous life of ours. If only this time together could last longer than a few hours. In a few days, though, I will pack my gear and head back into the wilderness. New York City will always be waiting for me, but for now I belong to the Appalachian Trail.
I touch a white blaze, something I've done at the beginning of every day of hiking. It's my way of showing gratitude and respect for the markers that guide me through the unfamiliar wilderness.
"If you want to sound wise, go to school. If you want to be wise, go to nature."
