3/24/17 – Mile 69.3 – Hiawassee, Georgia
Dear Andrew, I’m writing this from a combination laundromat/locksmith in the heart of bustling Hiawassee, known far and wide for such attractions as an $8.75 all-you-can-eat dinner buffet and “McDonald’s.” This is my first visit to a town, with some much needed laundry and showering. Also, food. Always food. In reference to my previous letter, I realize that cheese and an apple does not sound like a crazy thing to consume, at all. I can say this now because I’ve eaten some truly crazy shit, like an oatmeal cream pie covered in peanut butter wrapped in a tortilla. I don’t have much of an appetite when hiking, but every time I eat I feel less like I’m one step away from physical decay, so I try to work it into my busy schedule. In one word, these last few days have been HUMBLING. It’s one thing to hike ten miles, once, and another thing to hike ten miles once with 35 pounds on your back, and then a whole different world to hike ten miles with 35 pounds on your back every day. People my age are notorious for doing too many miles too early on and getting injured before their joints can adapt to the strain. My left knee has been giving me some trouble, so I’ve been trying to slow down. It’s hard not to feel competitive with the people hiking close to me- the trail is PACKED with people. At any moment on the trail there are probably 50 people within a few miles from me, everyone anxiously trying to prove to themselves that they can make it to Maine. I’m just trying to make it to camp before I lose the capacity to set up a tent. They call afternoon hiking “drunk hiking” because of how much you stumble, and 9PM is “hiker midnight.” At the end of the day I’m so exhausted I can barely think about who I am, or why it matters. I suppose in a sense this is what I have been looking for- a willful obliteration of the self. That’s a lot more dramatic sounding than what it actually looks like- picture me eating spoonfulls of peanut butter while staring off into space and you get the picture. The best surprise out here has been “trail magic.”- acts of kindness from strangers who for some reason or another, love hikers. My first trail magic came in the form of Jim and Pam from Alabama (“Like ‘The Office’!” I said. “What office?” Jim replied) – they had pulled up to a gap where the trail intersects a road and were giving fruit, crackers, candy and water out of the back of their minivan. They have never hiked a mile in their life but have been giving food to hikers for 12 years because they love to talk to us. A few days later I came upon a church group that was grilling for hikers as they passed by, and then a few days after that I met two retired hiking aficionados who had a table full of snacks and knit caps that the ladies of their church had stitched for us. There’s a lot more to describe but I can feel my cognition slowing the longer and longer I walk. It’s a hell of a good way to work out your anxiety- beat it out of yourself through sheer exhaustion. Now that I have clean clothes, I think the $8.75 buffet is in my future… Love, Laura
1 Comment
Aunt Lillie
5/1/2017 06:09:50 pm
I love a combo laundromat/locksmith. Nothing like doing the washing whilst getting your keys cut.
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LettersThese are the letters that Laura has sent her brother over the course of her hike. They are faithfully and painstakingly transcribed in their entirety. They are meant to keep people updated on how many facts she has learned about trees. Archives
July 2017
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