Tuesday, April 13, 2010

A dream...

I've become increasingly obsessed with the Appalachian trail or "AT" and those that set out to hike from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Mount Katahdin, Maine. I've never been athletic having inherited a bit of winter asthma and having been without the use of my left shoulder and bicep from a serious case of Encephalitis I contracted as a child. I was always told to take it easy, and so I did...After twenty five years of this mindset the mental and physical barriers are built so high that I feel conquering them is sometimes harder than the actual task at hand, but when I'm in the woods, something clicks. It's the only time I feel at one with my body, at the most human level breathing, walking, climbing, resting and eating only when in need, I feel at peace. My mind clears and hear that wonderful silence that only comes two miles into a trail when no one is around. Rocky paths, steep climbs and river crossings come easily when I am only there to challenge myself. When those hiking around me and with me slip out of range I let go of the urge to compete and simply hike my own hike.

Walking gives me peace that I have never known otherwise, in the city or on the trail I have always had the urge to wander. Ever since my husband and I hiked back two miles in Sequoia National Park to sit in a fallen giant sequoia I've been completely hooked. So what if I could walk from Georgia to Maine over 2,000 miles of trail, taking in that peace in every breath from when my eyes first open in the morning until crawling to bed exhausted in the evening. That sounds like something to strive for.

I just finished reading a blog on wicked local about a man who accomplished this journey later in life after aspiring to it and preparing for it at age twenty-six. Read it here at Hiking the Appalachian Trail: How it all started. So one day I may take the ultimate challenge and step onto the trail at Springer Mountain, and it may be after my future children have grown up and have families of there own, but I am as "Old Buzzard" puts it, planting the seed.