MenuPromptsContestsStoriesBlogContest #181 winner ?Out of Place on the Appalachian TrailSubmitted into Contest #181 in resp

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Out of Place on the Appalachian Trail

Submitted into Contest #181 in response to: Write about a character who’s climbing a mountain, whether internal, external, or both.... view prompt



Aeris Walker

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ADVENTURE CONTEMPORARY AMERICAN

My backpack weighs 31 pounds, and it barely fit into the trunk of Jen and Steve’s Honda. I don’t think they believed I was actually going through with this until I called and asked for a ride up the mountain. Jen gave me that look, that pitying, tight-lipped smile, but she helped Steve and I load up my things, and then they bought me lunch before dropping me off at the trailhead. Jen cried, and Steve gave me a can of pepper spray and an awkward side hug.

So here goes nothing. I’m at Springer Mountain, Georgia, with zero miles down and only 2,190 miles to go.

See you on the other side.  

Mile 8

I can feel my heartbeat in my feet, but I made it to the first campsite. I’m exhausted, but in that good I-did-a-hard-thing kind of way. I had trouble setting up my tent—broke a nail just getting it out of the bag—but there was another group at the campsite and some nice college kid saw me struggling, jogged over to help, and then had the whole thing up in under a minute. He looked at me funny, and I’m sure he was wondering what I was doing all the way out here instead of lounging on my sofa with a glass of chardonnay and an Oprah’s book club novel, but he didn’t pry.

Mile 19

Well, I pooped in the woods today. You would have laughed at me as I hunted for the perfect spot, then deposited and buried my own waste like some dainty, purebred housecat.

I laughed at myself too.

Mile 49

I’m already behind schedule. I wasted hours repacking my bag yesterday to redistribute the weight, as one hiker told me it would be less strain on my back to move the heavier items to the center. So I took everything out and repacked it as tightly as I could, which took forever. The hiker hovered nearby the entire time, obnoxiously commentating on all my belongings, and when he finally left, I sat down to write, only to find I’d somehow buried my journal. So, I unpacked my whole bag again, rummaging through my gear like a madwoman, just to then see the journal had been sitting on a rock next to me the whole time.

Even in the cold spring air, I was red-faced and sweating.

Mile 65

My feet are killing me, but I think I’ve finally broken in these fresh-out-of-the-box hiking boots.

I fell asleep last night listening to the crickets and thinking about you.

Mile 87

I met an interesting hiker today who said this was his second thru hike. He looked at least 10 years older than me and called himself “Pinetree.” All skin and bones with a long scraggly beard, he looked like a castaway stranded in the woods, though I got the sense he liked the solitude. He’d jutted out his bearded chin at me and said, “Nobo?”

“What?” I huffed out.

“North bound?”

“North bound? Oh. Yes. I am.” I had to pause and catch my breath after each sentence. “Just getting started.”

He looked me over and clicked his tongue. “You’re carrying too much weight.”

I was momentarily offended before realizing he meant my pack. “How?! I left so much behind. I need all of this.”

He was quiet, chewing his lip. “Give it a few more miles. You won’t feel that way then.”

We continued walking; his stride was twice that of mine, but he slowed and matched my speed, and we hiked in companionable silence until I stopped for lunch.

He kept walking. “When you’re ready to let some of that go, you’ll feel much lighter. Trust me.” Then with a final, “take care out there,” he disappeared around the next bend.

His reprimand irritated me, but the frustration kept me going for a good four or five more miles.

I envied him: so confident and free.

He reminded me of you.

Mile 112

I pulled eight ticks off my legs yesterday. There were probably more where I couldn’t see them, and that thought kept me awake all night, tossing and turning and twitching in my tent until the exhaustion pulled me into fitful sleep. I dreamt that my hiking boots jumped off a cliff, and I had to walk the rest of the trail with my feet covered in orange plastic ramen noodle wrappers.

Mile 148

I met some thru hikers from South Dakota (which I had completely forgotten was a state) who were both in their 80’s! We talked the whole way, and it helped the miles pass quickly.

They told me the secret to longevity is to never stop moving.

Mile 162

I’ve been making better time; today was my record so far—14 miles. A rather uneventful 14 miles, though I did see a porcupine, which was interesting. I always thought they’d be…spikier…?  

At the shelter, I removed three shirts, a book, and a tube of lotion from my backpack and left them in a giveaway box. It made a surprisingly noticeable difference.

Mile 169

Well, those 14 miles about killed me. I slept late today, then took two ibuprof