"...I'd hurt a lot of people lately, myself worst of all. What I needed now were the few things left that didn't hurt: the woods and the mountains opening out before me, the unfolding story of moving through them toward an end."- Robert Alden Rubin, "On The Beaten Path: An Appalachian Pilgrimage"
On the drive back from a Memorial Day camping trip on New Hampshire's astoundingly beautiful Lake Umbagog, my friend Joe and I took a detour down Maine 26 to visit a particular pie stand Joe hits up every year.
It was a gloriously sunny day, and this beautiful stretch of road near Grafton Notch boasted crowded roadside stands bursting with homemade vittles, flea markets that were more like sprawling junkyards, hippie food co-ops, and BBQ trailers. It was a good end to a great getaway.
On a whim, we stopped by an interesting-looking outdoors shop called True North Adventurewear. Amidst a superb selection of backpacking gear that I couldn't afford, I found "On The Beaten Path." Time to again feed my fascination (obsession?) with thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail.
I've needed a lot of time away this summer. I love the city, but the woods, the lakes, the mountains have been calling me in a way that I've never felt. And now that I have a vehicle, I vowed to get out of the city as often as possible. I also wanted to be sure to go to different places, and not fall into the routine, as I so often do, of returning to the same place again and again because I like it, and it's comfortable. I need adventure, and I need to practice taking chances, and seeing those chances through.
When I read that quote from Robert Rubin's book, I was sitting at a picnic table near Salisbury Beach, in the very early morning quiet. I sipped on coffee and felt the new day's sun begin to warm the back of my neck. And when I read it, it struck me so fully that it nearly brought me to tears. That's it. That's exactly it.
So. In August I'm going to do a multi-day hike up in Vermont, on the Long Trail. It's about 50 miles, and apparently showcases the most scenic part of the trail that predates even the AT. And if I do wind up taking the leap and hiking The Trail, the only thing that could stop me (aside from some fairly serious injury) would be my own fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of my own weakness. And damned if I'm going to let that happen. It's time to put those fears to bed.
Oh, and the pie was delicious.
