I guess if I had to say one thing that I took away from my travels across America when I was younger, it was an appreciation for transiency. In the young, that is. I learned so much during the time that I rode trains and cars and highways from Nebraska to the West Coast and back. Meeting interesting people (both those that were also on the road and those that were indivisible from the place in which you had met them), changing your plans based on a whim or on the necessities of the road, and taking time by oneself to reflect were the valuable experiences that I gained while traveling, bringing me from a girl to a woman.
These days I experienced transiency more consistently (as ironic as that may sound). Every summer I travel from my home in Denver to California to observe and watch hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail. In the hikers' lingo I was a "trail angel." For the past few years I had made my place at Kennedy Meadows, one of the earlier stops along the trail where hikers could restock supplies and rest their bodies and souls.
Early in the summer of 1995 I was manning my post at the Kennedy Meadows General Store when a woman who looked to have encountered more difficulty than most of the other hikers approached. It was rare to see a woman hiking alone on the trail, and she reminded me of the days when I had travelled alone as a young woman.
"PCT hiker?" I started the conversation.
"Oh, yes I am," she said, confused. I got the sense that she wasn't used to identifying herself that way.
"Is this your first stop?" I asked.
"Yes, it is. I just came from the campsite to get my things" she said with some relief.
"Well, I'll let you go on inside then," I said. She moved forward slowly, with her huge pack making her movements weighted and clumsy. She haphazardly made her way up the three steps and into the store, her pack swaying rather dangerously with each step. I wasn't sure if I should be amused or saddened by this young, clearly-inexperienced hiker.
Looking down, I spotted something shiny on the ground. I decided on amused when I picked it up and realized it was a roll of condoms.
Hey Kathryn,
ReplyDeleteI wonder, what is it about visiting the trail while you are not a hiker that draws you to it? Is it because you yourself don't have to experience the physical duress of living out of a backpack? Is it because you can live vicariously through these young hikers? Is it because you are keeping an eye out for a hiker that reminds you of yourself?
I'm really curious about that PCT hiker that you mentioned. A roll of condoms, eh? That's kind of hilarious. Well I hope you picked it up and gave it right back to her. Who knows when it might come in handy or when she might need it, huh?