[at-l] The Most Fun you've had on the trail (Kinda Long)

[shellydhale at earthlink.net (Shelly Hale)]

The most fun I've ever had on the trail?  Hmmm....the possibilities are simply endless here.  Hard to pinpoint just one, but here is
one of my top ones.  It was Dawg's meltdown and triumph headin' out of Hawk Mtn this past April.  

We'd camped at Three Forks the night before and then had been besieged by Boy Scouts, military exercises, and other hikers.  The
trail was crowded to say the least.  

We'd been on a couple of short hikes together before, but this was our first one with just the two of us.  It was definitely a
weekend of getting used to hiking together.  Before, we'd had other friends or our daughters with us and had easy excuses for
multiple breaks and a slower pace.  But, this time I felt like we could actually stretch our legs a wee bit even though it was to be
in the heart of those Georgia mountains.  Alas, Dawg was carrying a pack that she fondly refers to as the "Garbage Can." And,
indeedy it was.  Even though we'd had a tuckerization the night before, she still wouldn't lose that gawd awful 10 lb toothbrush and
never-ending supply of napkins.  Though, I did finally talk her out of quite a few of those.  LOL

I had been behind Dawg most of the way for the first part of the day, but my legs started cramping up on me from all of the stopping
and starting.  I was getting frustrated.  I finally told Dawg that I had to move on a bit.  I know that she was a little dispirited
by this from the look on her face, but I had to go on.  My legs were simply killing me.  I'm the type of hiker that once I get
warmed up the best thing to do is keep moving.  I seldom take pack off breaks except to go potty but will slow my pace to grab a sip
of water or munch on some gorp or something along the way.  I needed room to roll and headed out.

I came up a ridge and followed the white blazes along the side of the mountain and fell into the perfect stride.  You know what I'm
talking about.  When your muscles are all warmed up and your steps come at a steady rhythm, and you feel your breathing and heart
are keeping perfect time.  It was just awesome.  The wind was blowing slightly helping the sweat to dry almost as quickly as it
formed giving a natural air conditioning to my body.  And, then the song came into my head.  My Kryptonite.  As I strolled along
watching the butterflies playing on the breeze, the words and drums in my head moved my feet along.

"I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind
I left my body laying somewhere in the sands of time..."

The trail came out by a meadow, and I decided to take the little side trail to have a look see.  Just as I stepped up on a little
knoll I spotted a deer down at the other end of the field.  He seemed to notice me at the same time and with a mighty leap over some
downed trees was gone in a trice.  Wow!  Such strength, grace and beauty never cease to enthrall me.

I stepped back onto the trail and followed it around to an old road.  There was shade a plenty and decided to await my friend there.
After Dawg showed up, we stayed a moment longer chatting a bit about the deer.  She was upset because she'd missed him.  Then we
headed back out after picking up some garbage left at the edge of the woods.  

Dawg led out this time, and I decided to follow.  I could tell that she was getting frustrated.  Probably at me, too.  So, I figured
I'd hang with her a bit.  But, my legs began to ache from being held back, so with an apology I moved back to the lead and up the
mountain I went.  I'd stretch my legs for a bit and then wait on her, but I could tell that her frustration was growing with each
step.  I realized that she prolly wanted to chat more often-- she's talented enough to be able to walk and talk at the same time.
Me, I prefer the sound of my own feet.  I'm not much of a talker when hiking.  I'm more of an observer.....that is until I get into
camp and with chores done I can pert near talk your head off.  LOL

My thoughts turned to the differences in hiking with a partner and solo.  I realized that I was probably a disappointment as a
hiking partner.  We were exact opposites when it comes to hiking styles.  I figured she'd never come hiking with me again.  I
pondered these thoughts as I came to a stream and stopped for a refill.  After going up the hill a bit and filling up my water
bottle, I moved back down to the trail to wait on Dawg.  When she came along, I could tell she was getting to that point.  You know
THAT point when you've had just about all you can take?  Well, I could feel it brewing in the air.  

She wanted to go ahead and eat lunch there by the stream, but I told her that we couldn't be that far from Hawk Mtn Shelter and that
we could take a nice long pack off break there.  I remembered that she'd said something about cooking lunch, and I figured the
shelter would be the best place to do that with the wind blowing as it was.  As she refilled her water bottle, we discussed what we
were gonna do.  I took the opportunity to take my shirt off and soak it in the nice cold stream water, wrung it out, and put it back
on.  From the look on Dawg's face, I kinda felt like I'd committed yet another faux pas, but I figured she'd have to get used to it
cause I was hot.  Besides, there wasn't anyone around at that moment.  In the end, we pulled our packs back on and moved out.  

Not that much farther on we came to the Hawk Mtn Shelter sign.  As I stood there waiting for Dawg, this big burly fellar was headin'
back up the trail from there.  We swapped Howdies and started talkin'.  Turns out it was Mountain Dew from White Blaze!  When Dawg
walked up he was just telling me that Baltimore Jack was just around the corner.  Well, we wondered on down there to swap Howdies
with him, and then Dawg decided to walk with them on down to the gap.  We'd stashed some water along the road the night before just
in case we needed it, and I walked up there to get it.  When I got back down to the gap, Dawg had crashed.  

I have to admit that it felt really good to stretch out on the ground.  The sun felt wonderful.  The guys decided to go on up the
trail, and we settled in for our lunch break.  I was reclining back on my pack munching on gorp, slurping water, and watching Dawg
dig down in her pack for her lunch fixin's.  She finally got everything assembled and attempted to light her stove.  But, the wind
was wreaking havoc with it.  Her matches kept going out just as she'd get it to the stove.  I tried real hard not to laugh.  I even
had to bite the inside of my jaw to keep from it.  She kept fiddling with her windscreen and finally got the darned thing lit.  It
started to cook a bit when I heard a car coming and saw that it was the Ridgerunner (Gizmo?) coming around the curve in his truck.
I turned to tell Dawg and about that time her pot tipped over.  Just as he pulled in to park, her pot rolled down in front of his
truck strewing her lunch along its path.

When he got out of the truck with his friend, he laughingly mentioned Leave No Trace.  That was it.  I howled.  I couldn't help
myself.  The look on her face as her pot rolled away and then his reminder about LNT was something to behold.  As he and his friend
started up the trail to the shelter, I slowly pulled my pack around in front of me.

The brewing in the air had reached its pinnacle.  THAT point was finally here.  There was an ominous feeling in the air.  The wind
had even ceased its playful banter.  The sun had taken refuge behind a cloud.  And, Dawg looked ready to explode.  Her eyes were
bulging, and even from 20' away I could see the veins sticking out on her head and neck.  Her face was completely crimson and
steadily growing in color.

Peeking out from behind my pack, I kept watch as she just sat there.  I knew there was a time bomb ticking right there, but she just
held it in.  So, with a giggle I encouraged her to yell, kick, scream, but begged her not to throw anything in my direction or
towards his truck.  She looked at me like I'd grown two heads or sumpin'.  But, it was like I told her--it's better to get it out
and be done with it than to hold it in.  Finally, she jumped up and paced back and forth.  She ranted and raved for a few minutes
and then when it was over she sank back down on the ground exhausted.  

At least the tension was finally broken, or so I thought.  We sat there for a while longer, but then the flies started biting.  I
couldn't take it, but when I asked her if she was ready to move on, I thought she was gonna go back to the ranting and raving again.
I even told her that we should bail if things didn't feel right, but she kept insisting that we would continue on.  She just needed
a little more time.  A little bit later she told me to go on.  

I didn't want to leave her.  I could tell that she really needed a friend just then, but she kept telling me to go.  Guiltily, I
pulled on my pack and started up the mountain.  I felt so torn.  There was the added fact that I knew her foot had been bothering
her.  What if she really needed to stop for the day?  What if there was something else wrong?  Was the heat getting to her?  Was the
pack too heavy?  Had she been drinking enough water?  This hiking with a partner really takes some getting used to.  

As I trudged up the mountainside, I kept listening, but I never did hear her moving around down there.  About 3/4's of the way up, I
crept over behind a tree where I could see around it and back down into the gap.  I didn't want her to think that I was checking up
on her or anything.  :-)

I could see the Garbage Can still sitting where she'd left it, but I couldn't see her.  A few minutes later she came into view
again.  She stood there with her hands on her hips just looking at her pack.  All of her frustration and irritation were personified
in her stance.  I could tell that she really did not want to put that pack back on.  We still had several miles left to go in the
day, but I really wondered if she wanted to do it with the way things had been going.

As I stood there watching her struggle with herself, a car came down the hill toward her.  She took a long look at that car and then
back to her pack.  I wondered what she would do, but I needed to know either way so that I'd know whether to continue to wait, head
back down, or continue on. As the car moved on past her, she seemed to come to a decision.  With renewed energy she stepped up the
Garbage Can and hefted it on board.  As she adjusted her straps and such, I sent her a mental "Atta Girl!!!"  She picked up her
walking stick and started up the trail.  I stood just out of sight and with each step she took I chanted to myself "Go Dawg, Go!  Go
Dawg, Go!"  

When she reached the spot where I sat in the shade, I asked her, "Alright then?"  With a grin she told me, "Alright."  The rest of
the day went in a blur.  I felt humbled to have witnessed such a personal struggle and triumph.  To see, Dawg put that pack on and
conquer that next mountain was really something.  She had reached THAT point and had stomped it in the dust.  She'd defeated that
inner devil telling her she couldn't do it.  She'd thumbed her nose at him and did it anyway.  

That night as we settled down in camp, I remember feeling so proud of her.  It's definitely a special thing to have our own personal
triumphs, but it's even more special when you witness someone else's.

In the end, I think we've found perfect hiking partners in each other.  She pushes me and I pull her.  We're totally different, and
yet the very same.  Somehow it all worked out in the end, and I look forward to our future hikes together where I hope we can
witness many more of each other's personal triumphs over hiking's challenges.

Go Dawg, go.

Tenacious Tanasi
   (Shelly Hale)
 
 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/hiking_backpacking_events/




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