(So, apparently, in spite of the apprehension I felt the day prior concerning the amount of miles we were to do melted away at the thought of having a day of complete rest in the nearby town of Troutdale. As I mention below, Gracie and I pushed on once reaching our scheduled stop for the day in order that we would reach town a day ahead of schedule.
Once we reached the paved road which led to Troutdale, we still had about five miles to walk. Perhaps it was less, perhaps more, but the point is that we didn't feel like walking it. We attempted hitchhiking on this moderately busy road and were, for the most part, unsuccessful. We even had these young punks do the I'll-pull-over-but-speed-away-once-you-reach-the-truck thing. We eventually gave up and began walking. We walked on the hard pavement on already tired feet for about twenty minutes. A white Ford Explorer roared past with a distinctive license plate. Not long after that a truck of latino workers picked us up and shortly took us to the hostel we were going to use for the next two evenings.
This hostel, run by a church in town, had no one around. The small church was locked and the sun was setting. Gracie was doubting his research on the matter. Across the street there was a nice, kept home. And a white Ford Explorer, the very same that had passed us, with a cooling engine popping and slightly hissing in the driveway. We walked over to inquire about the church's hostel and were met by a man who let us know that yes, the church there did have a free shelter for hikers but we'd have to wait around for someone else to show up, that he didn't have anything to do with it.
Anyway, by the time we crossed the street again, someone pulled up in the church's driveway. Two of the hikers we'd met the day prior, the cockney fellow and someone who went by the trail name 'Blue Jay LeFay', were being let out by the church's young pastor and his wife, who had just treated the hikers to a home grilled steak dinner. You see, this pastor saw the nearby AT as a source of ministry to hikers and began the hostel ministry in order to show Christ's love to those passing through. During the conversation he also pointed out that the fellow across the road was one of the head deacons. This annoyed me as it was obvious that we had needed a ride to town but this head deacon had simply flown past.
We were set up in the small hostel, a new two room building in a corner of the church's lot, suitable for about a dozen men to use (the women were housed in the old sanctuary, adjacent to their newly constructed church). We were shown the shower and laundry facilities in the rear of the newer sanctuary and were shown were we could use a complimentary phone.
Gracie and I stayed up late, having laundry and phone calls to make. The showers were a blessing, to be sure, being the first I'd had since I'd begun the trail a few days prior. I had horrible rashes were the pack and its belt had been chafing me.
The following day, during which I wrote the entry below, gave us a much needed rest. We ate at a local cafe twice that day. I believe that's also the day that Ronald Reagan died. We spent the afternoon relaxing indoors in the old sanctuary (we had been invited to spend the afternoon in the more comfortable female quarters by its only inhabitant, 'Inchworm'. She took that trail name because she would only do about ten miles a day, still respectable to someone who had just started, like me, but far shy of experienced hiker's standards.)
Yesterday... wait.
Today I feel- rested.
Yesterday Graceful and I did our scheduled 11.4 mile day, our biggest yet. Initially I was intimidated by it, and continued to be so until we climbed to the top of our last peak- Then I began thinking about Troutdale and the telephone there. I mentioned to Graceful the idea of increasing our mileage for the day by about another seven miles. He mulled it over and also liked the idea of having a "zero" day (no miles walked) so we kept going.
So, there I was, flip-flopping from being afraid of eleven miles to being eager to do nearly twenty just because of the prospect of talking to you.
We got off the trail at one point, inadvertently, and wound up adding about a mile to our walk and had to spend a lot of time, a couple of miles, at least, walking along a gravel road with paralleled the AT but down in a valley... that gave me three new blisters which I am hoping will heal enough for me to tackle the 14+ day planned for tomorrow.
I still wonder what I'm doing out here and truly hope this experience will draw me closer to a closer relationship with God.
I had hoped that getting away from pretty much everything would clear my mind so that I could focus on God. The fact of the matter is, though, that my mind is still cluttered, just with other things.
I hope this changes-
I really would like some vision, some purpose, some direction.
I feel lost.
I have for a long time.
I don't know if this will ever change.
Do we create our own paths?
Have I been set apart?
Is this part of a plan?
Why do I constantly fight the feeling of isolation?
What is God teaching me through this?
I just want so much to be on the path the Sovereign Lord has for me and I want to KNOW I'm on it.
He told Jeremiah that he had plans for him- plans to give him a Hope and a Future. I hope that applies to all of us.
One thing I had asked is that things bubble up on this walk, things I need to deal with. Every... single... day... I have thought of India. This is not a pleasant experience.
Friday, December 11, 2009
(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a handful of months...) 6.6.04 (morning)
(I do distinctly remember the morning about which I wrote below. I'd chosen not to stay in the shelter, preferring the privacy and relative warmth of my tent- at least my tent would keep out the breezes. I found an isolated meadow near the shelter and set up camp. The next morning, I was surrounded by a white haze. I could see light coming from the direction of the valley below and soon the sun began burning away the fog. I sat there in the tall grass, soon drenched in the new morn's golden sunlight, and sang praises to my God. What a wonderful way to start a day.
I wrote this prior to eating breakfast, apparently, and probably did so due to the joy I was experiencing from the recent worship.)
Woke on mountaintop in a cloud, waiting for the sun to break through. Sang a hymn or two and read three Psalms aloud (25-27).
"Be strong and take heart. Wait for the Lord." -Ps. 27
Gaffer's tape seems to work well on mega-blister I have going on right ankle. Walked around today (this morning, rather) breaking camp and could not feel a thing with bandage/tape combo. Going to find Graceful, who is sleeping in shelter. I stayed in tent last night.
I sleep so much better out here!
"Fair are the meadows, fairer stil the woodlands
Robed in the blooming garb of Spring
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing." -lyrics, 'Fairest Lord Jesus'
I wrote this prior to eating breakfast, apparently, and probably did so due to the joy I was experiencing from the recent worship.)
Woke on mountaintop in a cloud, waiting for the sun to break through. Sang a hymn or two and read three Psalms aloud (25-27).
"Be strong and take heart. Wait for the Lord." -Ps. 27
Gaffer's tape seems to work well on mega-blister I have going on right ankle. Walked around today (this morning, rather) breaking camp and could not feel a thing with bandage/tape combo. Going to find Graceful, who is sleeping in shelter. I stayed in tent last night.
I sleep so much better out here!
"Fair are the meadows, fairer stil the woodlands
Robed in the blooming garb of Spring
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing." -lyrics, 'Fairest Lord Jesus'
(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a handful of months...) 6.05.04
(Alright, so over the summer I thought I'd try to keep up and post these five years, almost to the day, since I'd written them, but a cross country trip and my usual forgetfulness got in the way. So, here we go again...
In this entry I seem to be in much better spirits than the day before (remember, I've not read these since I wrote them back in '04. Nothing earth shattering in this one and little insight into what was making me tick out there. Just filler, really...).
Today I am feeling... content.
"Troubles last but for a night- but joy comes in the morning" - Somewhere in Proverbs, although it may say, "Grief" instead.
Anyway, I woke in good spirits albeit late. But then, so did Dick (Ol' Graceful). The day began muggy and Graceful was convinced it would rain again. In better spirits as I was, and due to the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I decided to take it as it came.
Today was a short day. We saw beautiful rock formations, mountaintops covered with rhododendrons and herds of wild ponies. (Just for you, Steve, I approached one to touch it. As it turns out this is no major deal since they are accustomed to getting treats from hikers- Graceful took his camera out of the ziplock and at the sound of crinkling plastic was rushed by two of them who began nibbling at his hands.
Today was frustrating, too, because I had a chance to walk down a couple of miles to the state park headquarters where I could have called you guys and so Graceful could get coffee. But, we couldn't find the trailhead from the shelter until it was too late. I was saddened because I wanted to talk to you so very much.
I seem to be acclimating to the trail- I walk better with a pack than without. My only problems are with the massive blisters I have on my ankles- I barely feel them with my boots on but they are VERY ugly and hurt a great deal when the boots are off. I am told by through-hikers that they are every hiker's bane for the first couple of weeks.
Tonight I sat at the shelter and listened to the conversations of these through-hikers, all over 40. One was from England with a wonderful Cockney accent and a devilish sense of humor. I didn't feel like part of the group, nor should I have, so I just listened, as did Graceful.
I am apprehensive about how much distance we must cover tomorrow (11.4 miles) and uncertain how easily it will be done... but oh, well, I guess I have to do it.
Steve, please tell your mother and father that I cherish the compass they gave me in February. I have not needed to use it yet but I played with it today. It means a lot to me that they consider me part of their family and that your mother showers me with love when I see her.
It's strange that I miss my mother, too, although it's been oly a couple of weeks since I've seen her. I look forward to calling her as soon as I can.
Do I still feel lonely? Yes, but not as intently as I did Tuesday or Wednesday.
I love you guys more than I think I'll ever be able to show you.
P.S., If you see Caroline, please tell her that I think of her daily as I sort out my food for the day. She was an INCREDIBLE help that last evening in both organization and morale. -tell her I miss her, too.
Also: It's still DAMN COLD up here... it's friggin' JUNE!!! I was shivering again before sundown, and the sun was out this time (no rain today) P.G.!!! I'm going to break down and purchase a bag, even if it's a mummy. This blanket does ok, but I have to have it just right since I foolishly cut a foot and a half off of it trying to save weight- which probably didn't make a difference since by pack is still too heavy... but I manage with it. I didn't bring my Columbia bag because it is a winter bag, not a summer. I would have cooked in it, I thought. I also didn't bring one of the other two I'd been given by my mother years ago, even though they would have been perfect, because I had already taken them to storage. "Aw", I thought, "It's summer- I won't need a bag. A blanket will do." EVEN THE GUYS FROM NEW ENGLAND ARE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE COLD!
Still no trail name.
In this entry I seem to be in much better spirits than the day before (remember, I've not read these since I wrote them back in '04. Nothing earth shattering in this one and little insight into what was making me tick out there. Just filler, really...).
Today I am feeling... content.
"Troubles last but for a night- but joy comes in the morning" - Somewhere in Proverbs, although it may say, "Grief" instead.
Anyway, I woke in good spirits albeit late. But then, so did Dick (Ol' Graceful). The day began muggy and Graceful was convinced it would rain again. In better spirits as I was, and due to the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I decided to take it as it came.
Today was a short day. We saw beautiful rock formations, mountaintops covered with rhododendrons and herds of wild ponies. (Just for you, Steve, I approached one to touch it. As it turns out this is no major deal since they are accustomed to getting treats from hikers- Graceful took his camera out of the ziplock and at the sound of crinkling plastic was rushed by two of them who began nibbling at his hands.
Today was frustrating, too, because I had a chance to walk down a couple of miles to the state park headquarters where I could have called you guys and so Graceful could get coffee. But, we couldn't find the trailhead from the shelter until it was too late. I was saddened because I wanted to talk to you so very much.
I seem to be acclimating to the trail- I walk better with a pack than without. My only problems are with the massive blisters I have on my ankles- I barely feel them with my boots on but they are VERY ugly and hurt a great deal when the boots are off. I am told by through-hikers that they are every hiker's bane for the first couple of weeks.
Tonight I sat at the shelter and listened to the conversations of these through-hikers, all over 40. One was from England with a wonderful Cockney accent and a devilish sense of humor. I didn't feel like part of the group, nor should I have, so I just listened, as did Graceful.
I am apprehensive about how much distance we must cover tomorrow (11.4 miles) and uncertain how easily it will be done... but oh, well, I guess I have to do it.
Steve, please tell your mother and father that I cherish the compass they gave me in February. I have not needed to use it yet but I played with it today. It means a lot to me that they consider me part of their family and that your mother showers me with love when I see her.
It's strange that I miss my mother, too, although it's been oly a couple of weeks since I've seen her. I look forward to calling her as soon as I can.
Do I still feel lonely? Yes, but not as intently as I did Tuesday or Wednesday.
I love you guys more than I think I'll ever be able to show you.
P.S., If you see Caroline, please tell her that I think of her daily as I sort out my food for the day. She was an INCREDIBLE help that last evening in both organization and morale. -tell her I miss her, too.
Also: It's still DAMN COLD up here... it's friggin' JUNE!!! I was shivering again before sundown, and the sun was out this time (no rain today) P.G.!!! I'm going to break down and purchase a bag, even if it's a mummy. This blanket does ok, but I have to have it just right since I foolishly cut a foot and a half off of it trying to save weight- which probably didn't make a difference since by pack is still too heavy... but I manage with it. I didn't bring my Columbia bag because it is a winter bag, not a summer. I would have cooked in it, I thought. I also didn't bring one of the other two I'd been given by my mother years ago, even though they would have been perfect, because I had already taken them to storage. "Aw", I thought, "It's summer- I won't need a bag. A blanket will do." EVEN THE GUYS FROM NEW ENGLAND ARE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE COLD!
Still no trail name.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
(Five years ago today on the AT, give or take...) 6.4.04
(Note: Wow. This is an emotion charged entry. I'd not brought a sleeping bag, only having a couple of sheets with me in order to cut down on weight because I didn't think, being summer, that I'd need anything heavier. Oh, wow, was I wrong on this day. I don't know how low the temps got that evening, but I remember being terribly afraid of what my condition would be the next morning. For comparison, other hikers were bundled up as if for winter snow... and it had been raining all day, so I was soaked to the bone. Anyone that knows me very well may understand the depth of what I'm trying to express here... I am rarely concerned as to whether or not I can physically handle something, trusting my constitution and resilience to carry me through as I often test my own limits for fun. On a lighter side, though, something that I did not write about here because I was so full of anxiety of how the night would transpire, I had an interested stop at a privy earlier that afternoon. Atop one particular peak at the edge of a clearing sat a three sided privy. The open side looked across a small meadow and down into the distant valley (if the rain and clouds had not been otherwise obscuring the view). As I sat there doing my business, a doe wandered out in front of me by about fifteen feet, sniffing around for something to eat. I slowly and quietly reached for the camera in my pants pocket, now down around my ankles, and snapped a picture of it. So, when you see the picture above, you can also think of what I was doing at that moment.)
6.4.04 "Thomas Knob Shelter" [9.9 miles walked today]
Today I feel... soggy. Scared. Thankful.
The day began with rain before sunup. Dick and I ate a hurried breakfast, once we woke up, and took off around ten in the morning- we had kind of hoped it would stop, so we tarried for a couple of hours.
So many things happened today. I don't know if I can write about all of them.
I am so friggin' COLD.
God Stuff:
I prayed that he would use the rain to teach me something-
We reached the top of a mountain which was a man-made 'bald'. It occurred to me (God told me?)
Wait. I have to point out that it was hard to see beyond a few yards. It wasn't raining at this point, but we were walking in a cloud.
Anyway, as I stood there atop one of the highest peaks of the day, I couldn't see very far beyond where I was standing. Something came to me: "Even though God may put you on a mountaintop, you still may not be able to see very far ahead." Spiritually, do you see what I am saying?
Then, the cloud parted a bit and there in front of me in the distance loomed the next big peak we'd cross...
I turned around and the clouds were breaking behind me, too. I could see down in the valley farmlands and tried to pick out where the trail was. I though of how comfortable those homes must be- dry and warm. Then another thought came to me: "When on a mountaintop God may not want you to see very far because you may become too aware of a larger, upcoming test and become disheartened, or you may look back and desire what you have left behind or you may take pride in how far you've come."
Praise God if He spoke to me.
Praise God.
The rest of the day was not quite so good. I still prayed a good deal, though. It gave me strength.
It kept raining and got COLDER.
I have no rain gear (on purpose) and little to keep me warm. I was shivering so much after we stopped that I could barely stir my cooking soup. When the soup was halfway done I put everything up and raced to the tent, changed into the only dry clothes I had, and crawled underneath my blanket. I am warm for now (except my feet) but do not know how I will fare the night or what I will do if tomorrow is cold and rainy. We still have two and a half days until we get to our first town. I am hoping that tomorrow is warm and sunny so my things can dry. I am scared of what I may have to endure otherwise. The prospect of donning cold, wet, clothes in the morning is NOT a pleasant one.
I still miss everyone and am anxious to complete these twenty six days. What made me think I could do this for six months?
I feel SO ignorant- Like a child that Dick must care for.
When will I grow up?
When I stop being such and idiot?
I don't think this is really me talking.
I am SO cold... I need to wrap myself up again.
By now I have decided to send these writings to you, Steve and Vicky. I have to say again how much I love you two and how special you are to me. I am SO excited for you and your child.
I am crying now just thinking of how I look forward to holding him/her.
I want children so badly, myself, too, and I don't think I'll every have the opportunity. Being an uncle to your child(ren) may be the closest I ever get.
(Note: I assume, after this last bit of self pity, I somehow managed to fall asleep. I remember nothing of how the night went but apparently I woke and carried on successfully.)
(Five years ago on the AT, give or take...) 6.3.04
(Note: This day's entry is what most trail journals that I've read turn out being, merely a log of how many miles were walked, what the author had seen, minor, mundane details about the journey. Today I went into my opinions about my trail food choices (Bear Creek dehydrated soups being a winner). This evening Dick and I wound up pitching our tents around a huge boulder as we were nowhere near a shelter. I don't think that I write about this in any entry but that evening as I was hanging our food bags out of reach of any bears as I should have, I'd failed to realize that I'd hung them directly over Dick's tent. He seemed to have little sense of humor about that the next morning, even though I'd not done it on purpose.)
6.3.04 "off of VA 601" [8.6 miles walked today]
Today I feel... better. Rejoiceful. Happy.
I know... frightening, isn't it?
Psalm 9:10b: "...for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you."
While today has not been trouble free (I have three blisters to deal with), it's been good. We saw such pretty vistas. But more importantly, a peace seems to have been there today. I didn't feel alone. I'm actually trying to talk to Dick (not the easiest thing to do- I sometimes feel as though we're on different wavelengths, sometimes not). My time when I was ahead or behind I would sing or pray in the Spirit, occasionally in English.
When not doing that, I still though about being "home" and how I would be getting back once this month is over.
It's so hard to imagine- this has only been the second day of twenty-six!
It should take about two weeks for my feet to toughen enough so that I won't get blisters.
FYI: I hate GORP. Most people call it "trail mix" but here it stands for 'Good Ol' Raisins and Peanuts'. Of course, nowadays, it contains much more than that, but it's still called GORP. Anyway, I wind up just eating the pineapple, bananas, and apricots. I give the rest to the animals.
The soups I brought ROCK. The best 'trail food' I have had, ever. I just wish I had bread since I make it so thick.
Energy bars- not so much. 'Can't stand the taste.
"Accelerate" energy drink powder? ROCKS. At least, it tastes good. 'Don't know if it does anything with the supposed protein/carbohydrate mix, but it sure is a nice treat every hour or so.
Anyway, today was a gorgeous day. I was able to constantly tell the Lord I loved Him.
Psalm 16:11- "You have make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."
I miss my family. I prayed for Steve and Vicky and Yovanka off an on today.
I love them very much and wish I could show them that.
(Note: The family I speak of above pertains to the foursome of Steve, Vicky, Yovanka, and Caroline, who were, at that time, my closest friends and the only people I interacted with on a regular basis. They'd become my family, the people with whom I was the closest and knew me the deepest, and I remember referring to them as such in these entries. Today I have a wider area of friends and still am very close to Steve and Vicky. I occasionally speak with the now Memphis-based Caroline, but Yovanka has seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.)
6.3.04 "off of VA 601" [8.6 miles walked today]
Today I feel... better. Rejoiceful. Happy.
I know... frightening, isn't it?
Psalm 9:10b: "...for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you."
While today has not been trouble free (I have three blisters to deal with), it's been good. We saw such pretty vistas. But more importantly, a peace seems to have been there today. I didn't feel alone. I'm actually trying to talk to Dick (not the easiest thing to do- I sometimes feel as though we're on different wavelengths, sometimes not). My time when I was ahead or behind I would sing or pray in the Spirit, occasionally in English.
When not doing that, I still though about being "home" and how I would be getting back once this month is over.
It's so hard to imagine- this has only been the second day of twenty-six!
It should take about two weeks for my feet to toughen enough so that I won't get blisters.
FYI: I hate GORP. Most people call it "trail mix" but here it stands for 'Good Ol' Raisins and Peanuts'. Of course, nowadays, it contains much more than that, but it's still called GORP. Anyway, I wind up just eating the pineapple, bananas, and apricots. I give the rest to the animals.
The soups I brought ROCK. The best 'trail food' I have had, ever. I just wish I had bread since I make it so thick.
Energy bars- not so much. 'Can't stand the taste.
"Accelerate" energy drink powder? ROCKS. At least, it tastes good. 'Don't know if it does anything with the supposed protein/carbohydrate mix, but it sure is a nice treat every hour or so.
Anyway, today was a gorgeous day. I was able to constantly tell the Lord I loved Him.
Psalm 16:11- "You have make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."
I miss my family. I prayed for Steve and Vicky and Yovanka off an on today.
I love them very much and wish I could show them that.
(Note: The family I speak of above pertains to the foursome of Steve, Vicky, Yovanka, and Caroline, who were, at that time, my closest friends and the only people I interacted with on a regular basis. They'd become my family, the people with whom I was the closest and knew me the deepest, and I remember referring to them as such in these entries. Today I have a wider area of friends and still am very close to Steve and Vicky. I occasionally speak with the now Memphis-based Caroline, but Yovanka has seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.)
(Five years ago on the AT, give or take...) 6.2.04
(Note: The second day of AT journal writing finds me at our first shelter after my the first actual day of hiking. While I rode up there with Dick and, technically, we were hiking 'together', this only means that we began and ended at the same place every day. More often than not we'd be on our own while as we walked out different speeds. A saying out there is "Hike your own hike", which means, do things the way YOU want to do them, you're out here for no one else but yourself. Dick enjoyed stopping to catch a nice view. Eventually I realized that while I enjoyed the views, I didn't need to linger as long and I enjoyed the walk itself. This meant that Dick and I rarely (as memory serves, but we'll see as I continue revisiting these entries) ever walked together for long. This day was a light day, miles wise, just enough to get our legs a bit more accustomed to walking with weight. Funny... I remember nothing of what I saw that first day...)
6.2.04 "Saunders Shelter" [9.6 Miles walked today]
Today I am feeling... melancholy. Again.
The walk was alright but all day I fought melancholy (more often than not, simply giving in to it).
I cried inwardly for God to heal me of the loneliness and hopelessness.
At one point I though he may have pointed out that I was walking with someone who is supposedly my brother, that I will always have companionship in that. So, I stopped lagging behind and caught up with him and stayed with him for most of the rest of the day.
Later, after we had made camp at the Saunders Shelter, I found out that the folks occupying the shelter itself (our tents were pitched nearby) were from a church (three 15 year olds and three adults). After Dick turned in I went to the shelter. There was a newlywed couple from the U.K. who had also begun today. It made me, of course, miss having someone with whom I could share a tent (but, then, India and I only ever went camping once, ever, but it's just the idea...). Then, one of the church adults mentioned he has been married for 25 years. It was like getting kicked in the gut. The melancholy came back.
It began raining, so I went back to my tent to get cleaned up and turn in.
(My tent leaks slightly, right where my head should be.)
Psalm 9 says that "the Lord never forsakes those who seek Him." I have that to look forward to.
I want such a relationship with the Lord that I don't feel this intense alienation any more.
I love Him and just with that He'd speak to me and let me know that He's there.
(Note: I don't really know what this alienation is that I'm talking about above. Was it from others? Was it from Him? Did the worship and thinking about the Lord fill a hole that had been in me that day? I can't remember.)
6.2.04 "Saunders Shelter" [9.6 Miles walked today]
Today I am feeling... melancholy. Again.
The walk was alright but all day I fought melancholy (more often than not, simply giving in to it).
I cried inwardly for God to heal me of the loneliness and hopelessness.
At one point I though he may have pointed out that I was walking with someone who is supposedly my brother, that I will always have companionship in that. So, I stopped lagging behind and caught up with him and stayed with him for most of the rest of the day.
Later, after we had made camp at the Saunders Shelter, I found out that the folks occupying the shelter itself (our tents were pitched nearby) were from a church (three 15 year olds and three adults). After Dick turned in I went to the shelter. There was a newlywed couple from the U.K. who had also begun today. It made me, of course, miss having someone with whom I could share a tent (but, then, India and I only ever went camping once, ever, but it's just the idea...). Then, one of the church adults mentioned he has been married for 25 years. It was like getting kicked in the gut. The melancholy came back.
It began raining, so I went back to my tent to get cleaned up and turn in.
(My tent leaks slightly, right where my head should be.)
Psalm 9 says that "the Lord never forsakes those who seek Him." I have that to look forward to.
I want such a relationship with the Lord that I don't feel this intense alienation any more.
I love Him and just with that He'd speak to me and let me know that He's there.
(Note: I don't really know what this alienation is that I'm talking about above. Was it from others? Was it from Him? Did the worship and thinking about the Lord fill a hole that had been in me that day? I can't remember.)
Thursday, June 4, 2009
And so the travel begins... (6/1/04)
(Note: This is the actual first entry of the trail journal I kept in '04. I began each entry with the phrase, "Today I feel..." and would go on to use one word to describe how I felt at the end of that particular day. I'd write the journal just prior to going to sleep, often in the small light of my headlamp, bent up in an awkward position in my small tent. This first entry, however, was done at a hostel for hikers in Damascus, Virginia, called "The Place". Dick and Celia, his wife, were staying a local bed and breakfast as they'd not see each other in a month. I opted for the cheaper venue, unfortunately. The Place was a dingy and slightly smelly house that had been outfitted with third hand furniture and out of date magazines and had plywood bunks for sleeping areas. All in all it could have been worse and was more like a mansion for those who had already been out in the woods for a while, but for me, who had yet to step foot on the Trail yet, it didn't help my feeling of isolation and loneliness that had begun to creep in. So, I sat there, in one of my Superman shirts, and began to write...)
6.1.04 "The Place" - Damascus, VA
Today I am feeling...
And thus begins what may the one hundredth thousand journal on this trail.
I don't know how I feel.
I am both at peace (changing to ball point in case this ever gets wet) and terribly ill at ease. I just want to GO. I just want to be out there.
I feel ridiculous in this "S" shirt. I am not wearing it tomorrow.
A gregarious man is walking from room to room. There is one woman (youngish, maybe my age or a bit less) that everyone seems to want to talk to, including me. I don't know why. She's female and on the Trail... I guess that's enough.
A young cat with sad eyes looked at me.
I feel ridiculous in this "S" shirt because it, to me, seems so pompous. There are people here who have been on the Trail for months- I've not been it thirty minutes yet.
I miss my friends already. I miss the comfort of knowing Yovanka or Caroline, Steve or Vicky are only a call away. I am hoping God fills the void. It's what I want, why I'm out here.
Earlier I already had some of what I call, I guess, a 'Spirit buzz', a slight euphoria which usually comes when the Spirit of God is moving in an instance. I had been praying that first and fore most He'd bless me with more knowledge of Him, that I'd know him better. There is no greater Glory than Him revealing Himself in love to His children.
In a way it feels as though I never left home - taking it with me in my heart, perhaps. I dunno.
I really love the Lord. I want to know Him so much, to have Him work in my life, to have Him through me to bless others. To be used by Him for His glory.
I want to go over and spend time with Dick and Celia. Not being away from them for an hour yet and I'm lonely.
Lord, I want to walk with you, to know your company, to experience you, to spend time with you, to get to know you as I do Yovie or Caroline, to be in such good contact with you to be able to pick up the "phone" and know that you'll call right back.
I feel like crying and I don't know why.
What am I going to do?
The Lord must be my comfort.
(Note: At this time I tried to go to sleep but the excitement or melancholy, or something, kept me from doing so. I walked down the street to find a pay phone.)
(Later)
I feel lightheaded and unearthly, like I'm not really here.
I tried to get on two pay phones to call Vicky and Yovie but they were taken. I had hoped to feel better by speaking with them under the guise of alleviating their worry (even if they have any). I waited for a bit to see if I could get on one but neither talker seemed to indicate they were about to get off.
I want to sleep but don't know if I can.
I still feel self-conscious in this stupid "S" shirt.
Steve and Vicki are my family. So is Yovie.
(To be continued...)
6.1.04 "The Place" - Damascus, VA
Today I am feeling...
And thus begins what may the one hundredth thousand journal on this trail.
I don't know how I feel.
I am both at peace (changing to ball point in case this ever gets wet) and terribly ill at ease. I just want to GO. I just want to be out there.
I feel ridiculous in this "S" shirt. I am not wearing it tomorrow.
A gregarious man is walking from room to room. There is one woman (youngish, maybe my age or a bit less) that everyone seems to want to talk to, including me. I don't know why. She's female and on the Trail... I guess that's enough.
A young cat with sad eyes looked at me.
I feel ridiculous in this "S" shirt because it, to me, seems so pompous. There are people here who have been on the Trail for months- I've not been it thirty minutes yet.
I miss my friends already. I miss the comfort of knowing Yovanka or Caroline, Steve or Vicky are only a call away. I am hoping God fills the void. It's what I want, why I'm out here.
Earlier I already had some of what I call, I guess, a 'Spirit buzz', a slight euphoria which usually comes when the Spirit of God is moving in an instance. I had been praying that first and fore most He'd bless me with more knowledge of Him, that I'd know him better. There is no greater Glory than Him revealing Himself in love to His children.
In a way it feels as though I never left home - taking it with me in my heart, perhaps. I dunno.
I really love the Lord. I want to know Him so much, to have Him work in my life, to have Him through me to bless others. To be used by Him for His glory.
I want to go over and spend time with Dick and Celia. Not being away from them for an hour yet and I'm lonely.
Lord, I want to walk with you, to know your company, to experience you, to spend time with you, to get to know you as I do Yovie or Caroline, to be in such good contact with you to be able to pick up the "phone" and know that you'll call right back.
I feel like crying and I don't know why.
What am I going to do?
The Lord must be my comfort.
(Note: At this time I tried to go to sleep but the excitement or melancholy, or something, kept me from doing so. I walked down the street to find a pay phone.)
(Later)
I feel lightheaded and unearthly, like I'm not really here.
I tried to get on two pay phones to call Vicky and Yovie but they were taken. I had hoped to feel better by speaking with them under the guise of alleviating their worry (even if they have any). I waited for a bit to see if I could get on one but neither talker seemed to indicate they were about to get off.
I want to sleep but don't know if I can.
I still feel self-conscious in this stupid "S" shirt.
Steve and Vicki are my family. So is Yovie.
(To be continued...)
PREFACE (6/7/04)
(Note: I wound up ripping the pages out of my trail journal each time I got to a town and sending them to Steve and Vicky, so at times, as this entry, they'll read as if I'm writing to them specifically. This preface was written about a week into the trip but I tagged it onto the top of the stack of sheets so that it'd be an introduction to the first sending of pages.)
PREFACE
So. A week out here... or close enough to count, anyway.
The following pages are what began as a journal just to help me sort out some things and may not be that legible- I wrote them to myself in a cramped position in a tent or a bunk.
I don't really know what I said as I haven't gone back to read them, nor do I truly understand why I want to send them to you. But I do know that eventually these entries became a way to feel that I wasn't that far away.
The phone call we shared was a blessing. It was difficult a few times to keep myself from choking up because I miss all of you so very much.
Please don't discard these as I will want to read them after I return.
Thanks!
-Kenyon ("Canyon Hamlet")
6/7/04
PREFACE
So. A week out here... or close enough to count, anyway.
The following pages are what began as a journal just to help me sort out some things and may not be that legible- I wrote them to myself in a cramped position in a tent or a bunk.
I don't really know what I said as I haven't gone back to read them, nor do I truly understand why I want to send them to you. But I do know that eventually these entries became a way to feel that I wasn't that far away.
The phone call we shared was a blessing. It was difficult a few times to keep myself from choking up because I miss all of you so very much.
Please don't discard these as I will want to read them after I return.
Thanks!
-Kenyon ("Canyon Hamlet")
6/7/04
(wipes away dust and cobwebs...)
Five years ago, give or take a day or two, I began what I thought would be a six month jaunt across the spine of the Appalachian Mountains. It turned out that the trip was cut short by five months, however, after I'd spent a month out walking. Anyone that knows me will recall that I stopped for job related reasons, returning to Kennesaw State University as the Department of Theatre and Performance Studies' Technical Director.
I'd decided to do the Trail (AT for short)in late '03 because I felt that I needed to get my head and spirit straightened out. My marriage had been destroyed a year prior and the mundane job I filled at an industrial print shop just wasn't cutting it for me any longer. I had no direction, no vision. No purpose. I was in a huge rut. I needed, and longed, for something to change. I was called into the wild wherein I would be away from all of the aimless distractions and could focus on personal reflection and could spend my days walking, praying, worshiping, and seeking the Voice of God in my life.
And that's exactly what I got.
I'd mentioned this desire to the other participants of a men's group bible study I was attending at the time and discovered that one of them, Dick, would be taking off to pick up the AT just over the Virginia state line in Damascus. He invited me to come along with him for a month (he had been knocking out sections for a number of years each summer) and I thought that it would be good to travel with someone who'd done a good bit of walking out there for a while and benefit from his experience. I planned on going out with him for a month, coming back to Marietta for a week to re-access equipment and plans, and then head back out.
I still planned on doing the whole thing, I'd just have to come back south after reaching Mount Katadin in Maine and finish up the portion I'd skipped.
Two days prior to embarking on the journey I had been told about how the position I'd left in '01 of Technical Director/Auditorium Manager at Kennesaw State University had changed. I'd wanted three things to me modified at the time of my departure, telling the department head at the time back then that I'd be happy with any combination of two of them.
At the time I'd asked for either the position to be split, the position's salary to be adjusted, and/or for the sceneshop to be moved off campus. The department head in '01 was unwilling to consider any of them, so I turned in my resignation and afterward began at the aforementioned print shop.
Here it was three years later, and two of the changes (splitting the job and increasing the salary) were about to take place under a new department chair. Although I'd said that I'd never go back to KSU, there I was, considering re-applying. When it came down to it, I truly enjoyed portions of the job... I just couldn't do everything that position had required and it, along with other things, had completely burnt me out. But here, they'd taken everything I enjoyed doing as a TD and had made a position for it entirely which they were trying to fill and kept the things I hated with the remaining Auditorium Manager (who no longer wanted to be or have the TD responsibilities).
Staying awake all night before I left, I compiled a cover letter and resume' for KSU and asked a friend to take it by the HR department for me while I would be en route to Virginia. I explained in the cover letter that I'd be away for a month but I'd be back for a week at the beginning of July and if they were interested in an interview that I could schedule one during that time.
So, Dick and I took off and I had no idea what would be in front of me for the next few weeks.
Each night I kept a trail journal and I may try over the next few days to transcribe what I wrote five years ago. I'd wanted to begin it exactly five years after the date, but, honestly, it slipped my mind. That, and a two week road trip I'll be beginning Monday across the US put a wrench in the aesthetic of the 'five years to the day later' thing.
Stay tuned, if you're interested. I haven't read these journals, except for the first couple of days, since I wrote them. I'm a little afraid of what may be contained within.
I'd decided to do the Trail (AT for short)in late '03 because I felt that I needed to get my head and spirit straightened out. My marriage had been destroyed a year prior and the mundane job I filled at an industrial print shop just wasn't cutting it for me any longer. I had no direction, no vision. No purpose. I was in a huge rut. I needed, and longed, for something to change. I was called into the wild wherein I would be away from all of the aimless distractions and could focus on personal reflection and could spend my days walking, praying, worshiping, and seeking the Voice of God in my life.
And that's exactly what I got.
I'd mentioned this desire to the other participants of a men's group bible study I was attending at the time and discovered that one of them, Dick, would be taking off to pick up the AT just over the Virginia state line in Damascus. He invited me to come along with him for a month (he had been knocking out sections for a number of years each summer) and I thought that it would be good to travel with someone who'd done a good bit of walking out there for a while and benefit from his experience. I planned on going out with him for a month, coming back to Marietta for a week to re-access equipment and plans, and then head back out.
I still planned on doing the whole thing, I'd just have to come back south after reaching Mount Katadin in Maine and finish up the portion I'd skipped.
Two days prior to embarking on the journey I had been told about how the position I'd left in '01 of Technical Director/Auditorium Manager at Kennesaw State University had changed. I'd wanted three things to me modified at the time of my departure, telling the department head at the time back then that I'd be happy with any combination of two of them.
At the time I'd asked for either the position to be split, the position's salary to be adjusted, and/or for the sceneshop to be moved off campus. The department head in '01 was unwilling to consider any of them, so I turned in my resignation and afterward began at the aforementioned print shop.
Here it was three years later, and two of the changes (splitting the job and increasing the salary) were about to take place under a new department chair. Although I'd said that I'd never go back to KSU, there I was, considering re-applying. When it came down to it, I truly enjoyed portions of the job... I just couldn't do everything that position had required and it, along with other things, had completely burnt me out. But here, they'd taken everything I enjoyed doing as a TD and had made a position for it entirely which they were trying to fill and kept the things I hated with the remaining Auditorium Manager (who no longer wanted to be or have the TD responsibilities).
Staying awake all night before I left, I compiled a cover letter and resume' for KSU and asked a friend to take it by the HR department for me while I would be en route to Virginia. I explained in the cover letter that I'd be away for a month but I'd be back for a week at the beginning of July and if they were interested in an interview that I could schedule one during that time.
So, Dick and I took off and I had no idea what would be in front of me for the next few weeks.
Each night I kept a trail journal and I may try over the next few days to transcribe what I wrote five years ago. I'd wanted to begin it exactly five years after the date, but, honestly, it slipped my mind. That, and a two week road trip I'll be beginning Monday across the US put a wrench in the aesthetic of the 'five years to the day later' thing.
Stay tuned, if you're interested. I haven't read these journals, except for the first couple of days, since I wrote them. I'm a little afraid of what may be contained within.
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