04/29

Another morning on the AT. This time I was woken up by two chipmunks fighting outside my tent. Guess things just haven’t been the same since the band broke up.

There was a notable chill in the air, surprising after yesterday’s heat. Because the shelters in the Smokies are unevenly spaced, we had a short 7-mile day to Double Spring Gap. Not a mile in, a sharp pain almost like a cramp, shot up my right shin. If it’s not one thing out here, it’s another. I took time to stop, stretch and massage the area, which thankfully eased up as the day went on.

A couple miles from camp, the forest shifted like a scene change. The familiar bare deciduous trees gave way to cinematic evergreens, tall and stoic. The pines lined the path like a procession. White puffy clouds framed the trail above, and the air took on a cool resinous scent. We felt for once, like we were getting somewhere.

We were first to camp and claimed the best spot beside a rambling creek. It wasn’t long before we were joined by a group of four section hikers, all around our age. Friends on their annual adventure. This year, a week backpacking the Smokies. Seeing them made me miss my friends back home. Some of whom I’ve known for over a decade, and hope to know in another six. A sort of chosen family. The group reminded me of my own; loud, funny, comfortable in their own skin. We circled around the campfire, smoking out the bugs and swapping stories, until one of them offered me a gummy. Now, I’ve had my medical card in Florida for years, but I gave up the devil’s lettuce when I started the trail. A personal challenge more than anything else. Usually I pass when strangers offer me weed. But these were good people and It was a beautiful night. So, I asked myself “What would Erica do?”

I threw it back and let it work its magic.

Used to much stronger grass, this brought nothing but giggles. The firelight flickered, the bugs buzzed, and the camp slowly filled with a parade of personalities. Hikers showing up like late night party guests, one after another, until the circle was full. It felt like summer camp for the existentially confused. Everyone was tired, filthy, and just glad to be there.

Eventually, my high and my social battery faded in tandem. I snuck back to my tent, zipped myself into my sleeping bag, and laid back, watching the golden light sink behind the pines, smile on my face.