The day my husband met us to resupply at Standing Indian, NC, I knew I was taking a break. He had planned to take a short trip to FL and return to resupply us at Fontana Dam. How odd it was to jump into the car with him and move at what seemed like light speed.
When we arrived at my father’s house, he lives on the west coast of FL, it was a foggy morning. Father Time suggested I put on my pack, boots, and walk up his drive to surprise him. As I lifted my pack, much lighter now, I realized how comfortable it felt. This anchor weight that had so hurt my back early in the hike, now hugged me like a familiar old friend. My boots walked the short distance singing, almost moving on their own. As I got to his house…..
My Dad was at his side door watching his freshly sown grass grow, almost like he knew I’d be walking by. He leaned farther out the door, squinting at me. Relief swept his face. I told him I was lost and perhaps needed some directions back to the A.T. He smiled and told me that he was so glad I was off that trail.
I wish I felt the same.