View from Max Patch |
With very little walking this month I am just over 260 miles, which puts me between Lemon Gap, and Max Patch, and that brings up a good memory. Like many good memories, the good followed sadness, and the good helped to heal from sorrow. The fall after my mom died, my youngest two and I went backpacking, starting at Lemon Gap. I had not worn a backpack or spent the night on a trail since college, probably since I was 19 or 20 years old. As much as nature is my greatest joy and love, my religion and my healing, I took a nearly 34 year hiatus. Why? I wish I could say. I ached for nature, for long term time in the woods, for more than a glance at mountains through car windows. We did camp, mostly in commercial campgrounds, and I managed to have many days on trails over the years, but not one overnight hike for 34 years, until 2018. My dad gave me my mom’s backpack, and shared packs and tents with the kids. For this blog I am going to quote my diary, with only a few changes and additions.
Oct 16, 2018
I’m so very glad my kids and I went backpacking. It was a wonderful and perfect weekend. I drove to Anna and Dathan’s house after work and arrived very late. Anna and Gray were gone, they were in NC. They visited with dad then drove close to the mountains to camp. The next day we met at the trailhead,( Lemon Gap). That was our first mistake, but it turned out fine. I drove, following directions and came to a dirt road. I was out of cell service. I drove 10 miles up the dirt road, winding and lonesome. I arrived first, and there was no way to reach the kids. They took the same road from a different direction, and their (section) of road was narrow, winding and crumbling in places. They were 20 minutes late, and they and I worried deeply until we were together.
We hiked along the Lemon Gap trail in a deep mist. It was airy and beautiful. We meandered over streams and bridges. Abe (the dog) led the way on his leash. Anna had to take him far off the trail when we met people, but other than that he was a good hiking dog. We ate lunch at a shelter and then hiked on to the bald. (First) we set up camp among the trees. Poor Abe fell over in exhaustion and slept. Later we walked to the bald, a big beautiful bald mountain top covered in people. I would guess over 100 - 150, with 60 tents set up everywhere. (As it turns out Max Patch can be reached by the crumbly dirt road and many people drive right up to the side of the mountain and walk up for the day). One guy flew a drone. Kids tossed balls, people yelled, drank, and cooked food. It was overwhelming. We still enjoyed it, the views were amazing. We cooked our supper there and watched the sunset.
Once dark the stars came out, millions of them. We could see the Milky Way. Walking back I felt like we were walking in the stars. As the ground sloped away it seemed like the stars fell under us and all around us. It was freezing, and we walked and shivered, one hand on the back of the next person so we could stay together without flashlights. Back at the campsite we tried hard to light a fire, but only two days before a hurricane had passed over and everything was too damp. It was so cold, so we just went to bed. Dad’s sleeping bags were nice and warm, but the poor dog shook all night. I’d wake up, wrap a blanket on him and go back to sleep.
In the morning after packing up we walked back to the bald and most people were gone.(It had been fall break for the Universities) We hiked around and ate lunch up there. The hike out was long, good, but then longer. I was very glad to make it back to the car. We all felt like conquerors. We did it and we loved it.
On a later diary entry I wrote the following:
Something changed in me after the backpacking trip. It’s like a switch was flipped and my mood was instantly improved. I can tell my attitude is more positive.
I don’t really know how to end this blog. I want to explain the importance of doing the things we enjoy. I have heard women say, “My husband needs to live in the country,” or “my husband would never be happy in a neighborhood,” but no one says, “My wife needs to hike, my wife needs to live in the countryside.” Is it always the women that give in to the men, or is it just the women that voice those feelings for their men? How can I explain the importance of nature, of being in nature to people that don’t understand? How can I make others want to protect nature, to remember the value of unspoiled land when they don’t understand? When a beautiful cathedral is damaged, people understand the desire to rebuild, to protect. When a natural place is destroyed, do they see the same thing? Not only is a holy spot gone, but the wildlife that live in the area are affected. Its like the cathedral hosted the congregation, and once the cathedral is gone, the congregation is less protected and has to go elsewhere. Nature is church, nature is holy, nature is needed. On this one trip to Max Patch I was healed from not only a great loss, but from years of doing without, years of yearning for something. We need to make sure the wild places are protected, and we need to encourage people to seek out and enjoy the beauty if it is in their personality to need it. But, we also need to limit the numbers at times. Good trail ethics and hygiene need to be taught. So, get out there and hike! And clean up after yourself. Enjoy!!
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