The most important thing is to trust your intuition. (“Survival Cards”)
Yesterday’s April snowstorm provided the perfect pause to complete this reflection on last spring’s adventure.
It’s said that 1/3 of the journey is in the anticipation, 1/3 in the trip, and 1/3 in the reflection afterwards. I’ve been so enjoying the remembering.
Saturday, June 3, 2023 Packing
The North Country has turned to Spring. The purple lilacs by the front door are blooming and I’ve watched the yard next door turn from gray to brown to pale green to today’s brilliant green and yellow. It’s been unseasonably hot. On my drive to Boston last week the temperature topped 100.
But this week a cold snap reminds those of us who are so ready for summer that it is not yet here. We’ve had cold rain the last few days and although we’re badly in need of the moisture, it’s not the ideal conditions for a backpacking adventure and showing friends the wonders of the North Country. The forecast for the week ahead promises we’ll see none of the fabled views off Washington and Lafayette. Instead, it looks like the gray overcast skies will draw all of our sights low to what is down and beneath our feet.
Oh we’ve needed the rain here in this drought. The same drought here that nursed the smoky forest fires in Nova Scotia. The weather forecasters cheer on the sun and disparage the rain when its rain we need. But no, not this week – sunny would be great.
We’ve been planning this hike for months and have reservations at the huts from Greenleaf to Madison. We’re planning on being out for three nights and then head home to hot showers and laundry before setting out again for three more days on the trail.
Tomorrow morning we begin. I’ll swing by Marsha’s at 7.
This Saturday night my bed is covered in plastic bags of food, piles of bright socks and shirts, energy bars and Gu’s, and so many questions. How many do I need? How much can I carry? Do I have enough? How can I keep the weight down?
I bought a brand-new pack this last week and a camel-back, neither of which I’ve used. Other questions. Is this a good idea? As is my habit, I overthink my overthinking. It’s this nervousness I’m ready to release to the slow and steady pace of walking in the woods.
I’m reminded as I sit here this morning scribbling these notes of the many books that have been written about the Appalachian Trail. There is perhaps nothing left to be said a bookstore owner shared with me. And yet, he went on, if it is the trail that reads you, there are in fact countless other words to be written about what the trail reveals to each passing hiker through this season of their life.
Here is how the trail read me.
Navigating Through Change 