While I was at a grocery store in Kent, Connecticut, a thru-hiker approached me and said, “Hi! What other trails have you done?” I said, “Well, this is my triple crown.” With a smile, he said, “I knew it!” I asked, “How could you tell?” He said, “You passed me earlier, and I saw you walk. I thought that’s the Triple Crowner’s walk. You were just cruising down the rocky downhill, and you made it look so easy, you know.”
I don’t know if there is such a thing as Triple Crowner’s walk. On the AT, I walked over 1,500 miles so far, over 7,200 miles combined across all three trails. The hills are getting steeper after Pennsylvania, but it doesn’t feel any harder. I trip over things less. I feel stronger, so I’m looking forward to New Hampshire and Maine, the last two states where the terrain is most challenging. For me, the art of walking is a never-ending, continuously evolving learning experience. I work towards gentle, soft, graceful, and strong strides on our beautiful planet. Last year, right before I finished the CDT, I had an epiphany and a moment- whoa, I finally know how to walk! It felt like going uphill as rising air with agility and strength, and going downhills as flowing water. I felt oneness with myself and the land. I felt peaceful, joy, and freedom. I knew if I continue practicing walking, I would eventually arrive at another moment of realization and say the same thing, “I finally know how to walk!”
Until I came to Dalton this morning, this entire week was intense with an extreme heat wave followed by an extraordinary thunderstorm that produced golf ball-sized hail and 70-plus mile per hour winds, a flood warning, and rain. I managed to keep going in such challenging weather, carefully walking over wet rocks and wood. When they are wet, the margin of forgiveness for mistakes gets very narrow. On day three, I was almost down at the bottom of the Jug End, a rocky ledge at the north end of Mount Bushnell, and I stepped on the slanted, wet rock. I knew my weight was slightly off from where the center of gravity should be. When the rock was dry, it would’ve held it, but it wasn’t, and sure enough, I slipped. When I landed, I exclaimed, “I knew it!” In that moment, I had an epiphany. I finally figured out how to keep the center of gravity on wet rocks on the downhill by slightly pulling my hip back while engaging my core.
When I got up, I noticed that the lower section of one of my hiking poles had snapped. Bummer! I thought. I tried to fix it on the spot by duct-taping a small branch as a brace, but the adhesive of the tape didn’t work. I thought of plan B quickly- I started walking, looking for a walking stick, and within 10 minutes, I got a perfect one. As I was feeling content with an alternative hiking stick and resumed my normal walking, I wondered what if I landed slightly differently? I could’ve broken my leg, ankle, arm, or any other body part. If I broke any part of my lower body, that would be the end of my adventure this year. What if I hit my head?
There are a lot of “what if moments,” like what if I went or didn’t go to the place, what if I was on time or late, what if I met or didn’t meet the person, what if I chose or didn’t choose to…..
It may or may not have changed the course of the future because life happens with a mix of coincidences. You never know the outcomes of “what if” moments. Sometimes the outcome doesn’t have much impact, and sometimes it leads to a significant consequence.
During this section, there were a couple of more “what if?” moments that could have changed my life.
I hid in the Kent library until it closed to stay cool. When I left at 5:30 pm, it was still 93 degrees. My body has gotten used to the heat and humidity, so once I disappeared into the woods, I felt fine and walked until twilight.
The next day was the last day of the extreme heat warning. Whenever such intense hot days occur, usually thunderstorms happens. Nature usually counterbalances to keep everything in balance. I kept a potential thunderstorm in mind as I began my day. It was hot, and I was happy to make it to the Great Falls area along the Housatonic River. I enjoyed cooling my heated body in the river before making my way to Limestone Shelter.
In Connecticut, overnight camping is restricted to designated sites. I only had one option that day at Limestone Shelter, planning to end my day earlier than usual, just in case of a thunderstorm.
It wasn’t my preference, and I almost broke the rule since the shelter was located down a steep downhill, 0.5 miles off the trail, but I chose to follow the rule. When I arrived, I was the only thru-hiker. I met an ATC ridge runner who was camping.
I was in my tent and I could hear thunder far away. It was coming closer and closer then soon, we are right under the intense thunderstorm. It came with a strong wind to the point I had to hold on to my hiking poles, which are used as tent poles for my tent. Then, golf ball-sized hail came down, and I was worried that it would puncture my tent. Next, instead of rain or hail, leaves were falling and covered my tent, and I heard trees ripping and falling close by. This is not so good, I thought. Then, my tent collapsed. I already had dry clothes on, but I had no choice but to go outside of my tent and restaked two of the tent stakes that came off the ground, making sure that all foud corners were storm proof.
I was only outside for less than a minute, but I was drenched. Everything was wet except my sleeping bag, which was still in the dry bag. It felt like it was an hour, but it was probably 10 to 15 minutes. After the first wave of the storm, the ATC ridge runner came over and checked on me if I was OK. He said it was the most intense thunderstorm he had experienced in his life, and his tent also collapsed. I told him I’d be fine. For the rest of the night, I did my best to drain the pool of water from the tent floor and used my body heat to dry my clothes, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Thankfully, it was warm, and I was never cold.
The next morning, I went over to the shelter and saw two trees down, hitting the picnic table. I was thinking about making dinner there before the storm came, but I didn’t go there for some reason. Why? I don’t know. If I did, I was hit by the trees, and who knows if I survived that. I walked down to Salisbury, and on my way, I saw many trees down. What if I didn’t follow the rule to stay at the designated campsite and chose a random site to camp? I may have been hit by these trees, and who knows if I was discovered by anyone.
Salisbury was a disaster. I saw trees on the road everywhere, blocking the traffic, a telephone pole split in half, a car shattered under a tree, and lots of people were outside chatting with each other. It looked like a small tornado had come through. I knew there was a flood warning in effect for the next two days, and I wanted to be prepared to hunker down. I hitched a ride with Rick to the town of Sharon since the grocery store in Salisbury wasn’t even open to get extra food. With his help, I was able to resupply quickly and went back on the trail. For the next mile, it took me an hour to get through since the AT was completely covered with the downed trees from the storm. It was probably the most challenging terrain on the AT so far. It reminded me of the time I was in Colorado last year, post-hauling the snow and moving so slowly.
I left the Hemlock shelter much later than usual, and I realized that I haven’t done a rainy day walking since Virginia. I was out of practice! I camped that evening, and the next day, I took it easy, listening to the soft rain on my tent and resting. I was tired from the intense weather events, and it felt good to listen to my body without forcing myself to stick to my regular schedule.
The forest was saturated with rain. The next evening, as I was falling asleep, I heard a snap of a tree, then a sound of the fall not too far from me. Again, what if I chose to camp where the tree landed? I usually inspect carefully when I choose my camp to make sure there are no standing dead trees near me. But who knows?
When I made it to Dalton, I hitched a ride to the library, a place where I consider my safe space to write and take care of other needs. A woman drove past me and turned around to pick me up. She said, “You know, what if some weird person gets you. I wanted to get you before that happens!”
“What if?” – we never know. All we know is life happens with a mix of coincidences. Sometimes the outcome has little impact, and sometimes it leads to a significant consequence. Every moment is precious. Every breath is a miracle. So, I will take every step mindfully, appreciating this life on Earth.
