A Decision

Monday afternoon, April 23rd, I stared blankly at my tent fly which had taken me 4 hours to set up. I was standing in my friend's yard in Flagstaff, wondering if the new twine I had purchased would do all right on the trail. My other guy lines were in Phoenix, and I hadn't really set up my fly since the central part of the trail due to the wind. Now cold and moisture were potential issues to face north of Flag, and I needed to make sure I was comfortable setting up this...kind of weird design...no offense to my mom who had gotten the one man tent after the last "trail bail." It was during this process that I realized I had left my guy lines in Phoenix where I'd first checked out the tent, and needed to get some rope.

I borrowed Laurie's bike, rode to Safeway, and purchased more ibuprofen and drink powder. They didn't have rope...or sunglasses, which I also needed because my favorite pair of Maui Jim's that I found on a trail are currently hanging on a branch near Pine Spring. So I went to the dollar store in the same strip mall, found some crappy twine and even crappier sunglasses, and rode her bike to Little Ceasars. I scalded my mouth on some really satisfying pepperoni pizza, and then headed back to Laurie's to finish setting up the fly.

Earlier that morning, I had made a decision. From Flagstaff on, I wouldn't plan any more camp spots. I would get up as early as I could muster, push as hard and fast as my body could handle, get water wherever it showed up, and endure that way until the sun set. I'd pull off the trail, set up just the fly over my ground cloth, mattress, and sleeping bag, and sleep in immense pain until morning again. It would be super hard, but that was the point. If I did 25-30 mile days, I wouldn't have time to think. To be alone. To miss human connection. I was going to sacrifice my body in an effort to save my mind. Maybe the solitude was empowering and invigorating before. Now it was crushing me.

I was starting in the morning again after a zero day. But that afternoon, I just stared blankly at my fly, wondering what kind of weather, beauty, and pain awaited me.

A truck pulled up in Laurie's driveway. I assumed it was her roommate who was expected about that time. Instead, a woman popped out and asked if she could use the bathroom. I didn't answer for a second, because her voice threw me off. That was my mom's voice. But this woman didnt have hiker hair like my mom's, and her clothes were nice, and yet...that WAS my mom's truck! I think I laughed for a second, and then started crying as my mom came and hugged me and asked me if she could try one more time.

I think I said, "Yes, please."

My whole mindset changed. We were going to get this thing figured out! My mom had new strategies, and suddenly, instead of a zero day, we were anxious to get a few miles in for the day! We packed up, and put in an easy 6 mile day. We were in the woods. We were on the trail. Together. I wasn't alone, and I wasn't going to shut myself down in order to reach a number. I was really happy. Not everyone has great relationships with their mothers, but I do, and I can't believe what fun we have together.

(She took forever to figure out her phone's camera delay so we could get a selfie...)

I hope to continue that tradition with my daughters, to be a source of joy, comfort, and laughter for them as my mother has been for me.

To be continued...