(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a few months...) 6.7.04

(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.