A brief encounter along the Appalachian Trail that I will never forget.
My mouth began to water as I checked my map and saw that I was nearly to town. I couldn’t wait for a cold coke and honey bun from the vending machine to hold me over until I could pig out at dinner. The hostel was right off the trail too, so no hitches or shuttles. I was only a few miles from walking straight into a warm bed, real food, and, hopefully, some good hangs.
The last few days had been a slog. I just came off of a bittersweet week in the Great Smoky Mountains where I had to say goodbye to an amazing tramily. The weather was also perfect through a notoriously rainy section of the trail. Now, I was hiking alone, and I was ready to take a load off in Hot Springs, North Carolina for a much needed day of rest. For three days I had been up and down some of the most monotonous miles on the trail. With the exception of Max Patch – a bald with some of the best views in southern Appalachia, the trail was tree covered for 45 miles.
Every step had been a mental battle of internal will power to keep going. Being still so near the beginning of the trail, I wasn’t going to quit now, but my resolve was beginning to evaporate with the sweat rolling down my neck. I was struggling, and to make matters worse, I almost stepped on a rattlesnake. There are two noises that will scare you worse than anything on the trail: a grouse at full-throttle takeoff in a pile of leaves and the sound of a rattler near your feet. I high-stepped my way down the trail making an array of noises that sounded something like “ohhhh shit” and “where’s it at?!?!” Once I got my eyes on it, I finally calmed down enough to keep on trucking.
Note to self, I thought. Always hike with one earbud in and one out.
Like I say, I was ready for a nice break. And town was getting nearer with every step.
Any minute now, a road, a building, a sound, something will pop out to let me know I’ve made it, I thought as my eyes swiveled through the trees ahead.
“Well hello there! You must be hiking the AT,” came a woman’s voice from a small outcrop in the rhododendrons I was passing.
I turned to see an older woman wearing hiking clothes out of the 90s and donning a pack with a large aluminum frame strapped to her back – that was definitely 90s. She looked like she was only out for the day as her pack looked basically empty.
C’mon lady, I’m really trying to get to town.
“Yeah, I am, and I am ready to get to town,” I said trying to be urgently polite.
“I’m sure you are. I remember those moments very well,” she replied.
Ok now I was curious.
“Remember?” I asked. “Have you hiked the AT before?”
“Yeah back in the early 90s.”
Bingo. Right on the money.
“That’s cool. What was that like?” I asked settling in for a longer conversation than I expected and my sense of urgency waning.
“Oh it was fantastic. I think about it all the time and really miss it. How’s it going for you? Are you enjoying it?” She asked with care.
“I’m loving it,” I said. It was mostly true, but after the last few days, the honey moon feeling was wearing off. “But, I’ll admit, It’s been a hard past couple of days.”
With such intentionality, she sat there and listened to me ramble about all the good, bad, and ugly I was experiencing on the trail. She would laugh at my jokes and mishaps while also giving me a oh-that’s-too-bad when I would get to the woes of my journey thus far.
“I totally get it. I felt the exact same way so many time,” she replied. “The trail was a lot tougher back in the day. The equipment was heavier and less user friendly. I remember my water filter was a pump machine. It had a long tube that I would stick in the water and then slowly pump through the filter into my water bottle. It was so annoying. Now you have that little attachment that goes on your water bottle.”
“I’ll also never forget when I got to Pennsylvania. I was having an awful time. There was no water because of a drought, and it was miserably hot. I remember finally coming to a nicely flowing creek, and I was so relieved. But then I noticed there was something in the water near the opposite bank. When I got over to it and pulled it out, it was a six pack of grape soda! I couldn’t believe my luck! I ripped one off the plastic ring and drank it as quick as I could. It was the best thing I had ever tasted. I was so thirsty,” she said with a pause as she smiled, remembering a moment long since gone but ever vivid.
“By the way, how do you entertain yourself?” She asked.
“Well, if I’m hiking with others, I enjoy talking with them. But when I’m by myself, I mostly listen to music. If I’m hiking alone first thing in the morning, I like to listen to the birds. It’s peaceful. I can’t imagine hiking when you did. Having nothing to listen to would be terrible,” I said.
“Ha. That’s what you think. I might love the woods, but I’m no nature listener,” she laughed back.
“So then what did you listen to?” I asked with genuine curiosity. Her response was the last thing I expected.
“I listened to episodes of Friends,” she said as if that was the most normal thing for a person to be listening to on the Appalachian Trail in the 90s. “I had a cassette player that I carried with me. I thought about throwing it off a mountain several times because the amount of tapes and batteries I had to carry to make sure it was working. My sister would record episodes and then send them to the post office of the town I would be passing through. Then I’d send her back the old ones and that’s what I did the whole way.”
“That’s some commitment to the show,” I laughed. “I can’t imagine carrying all that.”
“Oh yeah, it was a lot, but I enjoyed it. It gave me something to do and looking forward to while I hiked.” She said. “Listen, I know you’re eager to get to town, but I can tell you one last thing before you go?”
“Sure, what is it?” I replied.
“Don’t quit,” she said.
“Yeah I don’t plan to,” I responded, trying to sound like I hadn’t heard that before.
“No, I’m serious. Don’t quit. You’re so early in this adventure, and it’s easy to say that now, but there will be a time later on down the trail where you’re going to really want to. I mean it, there will be days where you want nothing more than to leave this trail behind and go back home. But I beg you, don’t do it. This trail is amazing, and finishing at Katahdin will be one of the best things you ever do. So please, don’t quit,” she implored.
I was in a little bit of shock. I could feel the passion and care behind those words. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it felt like treasure that I needed to tuck away until the right moment.
“I won’t quit. I promise. I really appreciate that. I don’t know what I’ll face, but I’ll try my best to push through,” I said more seriously.
“Good. You’ll be so glad you didn’t. I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, and I know you’ll do great. You seem like you have the right spirit for this. You better get going. I know you’re probably starving,” she said with a final smile.
“I’ll never forget this. Thank you! I hope you have a great rest of your hike,” I smiled back.
And we were off again, on our own separate adventures. Life had, for a moment, rejuvenated my soul to keep going. I smiled the whole way to Hot Springs thinking about the encounter with this woman.
I didn’t even get her name! I thought incredulously. I hope she has a wonderful hike wherever she’s going. She really helped me out back there.
Four years have now passed since this conversation, and her words are truer now to me than ever. She was dead on. The rest of the trail was brutal. I had a moment a few days later where I almost did quit. Then by mid summer in the mid-Atlantic section of the trail, I was ready bulldoze Pennsylvania and move to the arctic. Between the rocks, heat, and no water, every day was suffering for weeks on end.
Don’t quit.
You’re going to want to.
Don’t quit.
Her words continually rang through my head as I kept putting one heavy foot in front of the other.
And as I kept not quitting, magic kept coming. A friend would be there to cheer me up. A stranger would show me much needed kindness in the form of a ride or a hot meal. A good nights sleep would ease my weary body. When I finally reached Katahdin, it was unlike any experience I had ever had. It was euphoric.
Don’t quit.
Katahdin was a long ways away when she and I met, but before I knew it was there.
Don’t quit.
There will be detours, setbacks, heat waves, chaffing, and everything in between along the way.
Don’t quit.
Katahdin is just around the corner, and you’ll be so glad you made it there.
– Ralston Drake
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved experiencing it and sharing it. Be sure to subscribe for free below to be sure you get a notification whenever I post a new article. Thank you again! I hope your next adventure is one to write about some day too!
Wandering with Ralston 
Leave a comment